


A Song for Tomorrow

by holy_kami



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Azure Moon Route-compliant deaths, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, May be other relationships later, Multi Chapter, Romance, Shameless cameos, Slow Burn, Some bad language, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 250,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_kami/pseuds/holy_kami
Summary: Annette had one goal in mind when she enrolled in the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach: to bring her father home. Felix had one purpose when he enrolled in the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach: to become stronger. They didn't mean to fall in love at the same time.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 613
Kudos: 664





	1. Following in Your Footsteps

On the cusp of a new Great Tree Moon, the air was still cool and biting even in the morning sunlight. The Monastery of Garreg Mach stood tall and proud overlooking the bountiful land below like a benevolent yet strict mother supervising the villages in the surrounding valley. Felix scowled up at the massive entrance gates as they approached, a look which did not go unnoticed by his father. They looked strikingly alike, with thick navy hair and sharp eyes. Both men sat stiffly astride horses as their entourage followed behind with Felix’s belongings securely strapped into wagons for the long journey from Fraldarius territory to the Monastery. Duke Rodrigue Fraldarius sighed audibly, but Felix didn’t spare a glance in his direction, instead opting to nudge his mount forward and enter the sprawling marketplace at the foot of the great building. 

His father followed suit, keeping pace easily. He was a much more capable rider than his son, but he had been insistent that Felix understand how to handle a horse nonetheless. It was expected of a noble, especially one so high-ranking as the Fraldarius family, that they be able to ride competently. “It could serve useful on the battlefield as well,” Rodrigue had explained many years ago to his stubborn youngest son, who had only wanted to practice his swordplay. “You never know when you may need to take a steed to escape from the battle or race a wounded comrade to safety.”

Rodrigue’s older son, Glenn, had taken it upon himself to instruct his younger brother in the ways of horses and horseback riding. For a time, Felix had been enamored of the idea of being a knight like his brother, riding a shining steed into battle and defending his king from harm. It was a small boy’s dream, and it died with that same small boy. Clutching the reins of his horse more tightly at the memory, Felix wound his way through the crowd and up to the main entrance of the monastery. The gatekeeper saluted smartly as the two men approached.

“Welcome to Garreg Mach Monastery!” he said loudly. He spared a glance toward Felix. “Are you here to enroll in the Officer’s Academy for this year?”

Felix grunted moodily.

“That is correct,” Rodrigue affirmed, shooting his son an irritated glance. Felix pretended not to notice and fiddled with his reins. “I am Duke Fraldarius. My son, Felix, is enrolled in the Blue Lion house. Can you direct us to where we may take his belongings?”

The gatekeeper saluted again and beckoned several milling monastery staff over to where they stood. “Yes, sir!” 

After several minutes of discussion, the Fraldarius retainers were on their way with Felix’s possessions to the room that had been reserved for him on the second floor of the student dormitories. Two stable hands took their horses to be fed and watered, leaving Felix and his father in the grand entrance hall. It was an impressive structure with tall pillars and a very ostentatious staircase. Felix maintained a look of unimpressed indifference as he surveyed the room. He was acutely aware of his father’s gaze on him, sizing him up. _Undoubtably comparing me to Glenn,_ he thought savagely. 

Rodrigue set off briskly up the stairs, motioning Felix to follow him. Having no better idea of where he ought to go, Felix fell in stride with his father. “I remember the day I first arrived here at the Officer’s Academy,” his father began reminiscently. “It was raining when I arrived, but such weather could not dampen my spirits! King Lambert was here as well. In fact, we arrived together.” They reached the top of the stairs. Felix could smell food wafting out of the room on their immediate left. A garden lay ahead of them where monks and nuns ran to and fro on a variety of errands. Rodrigue sighed, apparently still wandering in his own memories. “Our time here at the Officer’s Academy served us well. King Lambert and I became such close friends, so close we were like brothers. I hope that the same will be true for you,” he added, turning to face Felix directly. 

“I will not make a mock of myself to serve him,” Felix growled in a low voice. It was a familiar argument between them, and an equally familiar response. “I’m here to hone my own skills, not to bow and scrape before a boar.”

“He is your prince,” Rodrigue admonished in an even voice, though his eyes were like steel. “It is your duty to serve and protect the royal family. It has been our family’s birthright for generations. Glenn took this to heart, and you must do likewise.”

“I’m not Glenn,” Felix countered, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. His eyes were equally steely. “I’m not interested in dying to save someone else’s life.”

Rodrigue stared at him and shook his head. “Perhaps you feel this way now,” he replied in a cool voice. “But there may come a day when you realize there are others whose lives matter more than your own. That is what it means to be a knight: to lay down your life to save one who matters more.”

Before Felix could respond with another scathing reply on the so-called ‘virtues’ of knighthood, a voice echoed in the hall behind them.

“Felix! You’re here!”

Turning around, Felix’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his old friend hurrying up to greet him. “Dimitri,” he said coolly by way of acknowledgement. He pointedly ignored the bulky man shadowing Dimitri up the stairs. The man’s arms were crossed over his chest, and he seemed content to say nothing at all. His eyes scanned their surroundings as if he expected an ambush at any moment. 

The tall, lanky man grasped his hand good-naturedly and shook it. “I’m glad to see you’ve arrived now, old friend,” Dimitiri smiled warmly, but Felix could see that it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was starting to worry you had chosen not to come after all.”

“Of course I came,” Felix retorted, forcefully pulling his hand out of Dimitri’s grasp. “Many of the best swordsmen in the land trained their skills here. How else can I hone and test my skills if I am not surrounded by worthy opponents?” 

Dimitri laughed, a sound which made the little hairs on the back of Felix’s neck stand on end. “I should have known,” the prince replied. “You always have been focused on your strength with a blade. Lord Rodrigue,” he said formally, turning to the other man and inclining his head. “It is a pleasure to see you again. It has been too long!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” Rodrigue replied smoothly, bowing formally at the waist. “I trust that you are well?”

Dimitri nodded. “As well as I can be,” Dimitri replied. Rodrigue quirked an eyebrow at him, but the prince did not elaborate. “I am sure you must be tired from your journey. Perhaps you would like to sit for a meal?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I have some business to take care of before I leave, so I must regretfully decline,” Rodrigue replied with another courtly bow. “I will leave you to show Felix around. My son,” he said, turning back to Felix. “I trust you will uphold our family honour while you are enrolled here. Do not disappoint me.”

Turning on his heel, Rodrigue did not wait for a reply. He strode away toward the garden and out of sight. Felix flexed his fingers as if he wished to draw the blade handing at his side. If Dimitri noticed any of this, he did not say so. “Ingrid arrived two days ago,” he said conversationally instead. “She’s been ensuring everything is prepared for the Blue Lion students, and has appointed herself as the official welcoming committee, so to speak, for our house.”

“How unsurprising. Why isn’t she here to greet me then, instead of you and him?” Felix said darkly, jerking his head toward the silent man just behind Dimitri. 

“Ingrid is busy helping a new student settle in right now,” Dimitri said, ignoring Felix’s jab toward his retainer. It was his usual tactic to avoid another confrontation on the subject with Felix. “She asked Dedue and I to keep an eye for any other newcomers until she finished.”

“I’m sure she did,” Felix replied, shooting a knowing look at Dedue. He did not appear fazed, but Felix had not expected a reaction. Dedue never seemed to react to his verbal jabs either. “Well then, show me around this place. Where are the training grounds?”

Dimitri grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “You really do have a one-track mind, don’t you Felix?”

\---

“Wow! This is _amazing!_ ”

Wide-eyed and smiling, Annette looked around her dormitory room with undisguised awe. She unceremoniously dropped her satchel down on the bed and pranced around the room with great enthusiasm. The blonde girl who stood in the doorway smiled fondly. “I don’t know if it’s that impressive,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure this is much smaller than what you were used to at home.”

“Oh, yes!” Annette laughed heartily. “But I don’t mind at all! I stayed in a dormitory in Fhirdiad too, when I was attending the Royal School of Sorcery. This is much brighter! My room there had no windows at all.”

“You lived in Fhirdiad?” Ingrid asked interestedly. “I’m surprised we never crossed paths! I grew up in Fhirdiad myself.”

“Yes, I did, but I spent most of my time at school,” Annette replied with a nod. “My uncle sent me. He could tell I had a natural aptitude for magic, so I worked really, really hard to get a recommendation into Garreg Mach to continue my studies.”

“That’s amazing!” Ingrid replied with some awe of her own. “I’ve heard that graduating from the Royal School of Sorcery is extremely difficult and that many students take years to do so. Few enough of them have been able to earn a recommendation to enroll in the Officer’s Academy!”

“Believe me, it _was_ difficult,” Annette agreed with feeling. “I studied so hard, and I was able to achieve top grades to graduate so quickly. I don’t think they would have given me the recommendation if I hadn’t done so well,” she continued earnestly. “Honestly, I’m so thrilled I was able to attend the Officer’s Academy. It’s been a dream of mine for so long.”

Ingrid smiled broadly. “I’m so glad to hear it! So, do you also dream of becoming a knight?”

“Something like that,” Annette replied a little evasively, glancing away from Ingrid.

“Your mother and father must be so proud of you,” Ingrid said brightly, either ignoring or not noticing Annette’s odd reply. “Was it your mother who came with you today?”

Annette shook her head. “Unfortunately, she was indisposed, and wasn’t able to bring me herself. My uncle came with me, but he had to depart right away, as he has urgent business back at home.”

Ingrid shifted uncomfortably, plainly wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “That’s too bad,” she sympathized. “In any case, now that you’re here, you’re officially a Blue Lion. We’re like a family of our own!” She moved out of the doorway and gestured for Annette to follow. “Come with me, and I’ll show you around the grounds.”

The pair of them set out from the dormitories and passed the greenhouse. “So,” Annette began a little shyly, “Do you know who will be teaching our house this year? I’ve heard the famous Crest scholar works here. Will he be leading us?”

Ingrid shrugged. “I have no idea. One of the professors the monastery hired has already run off to Goddess-knows-where. From what I’ve overheard from the knights here, I doubt he will be returning. So for three houses, there’s only two professors right now. That’s a lot of students for them to take on alone.”

Annette nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s quite a pickle,” she said. “I hope they can sort it out quickly. Term starts in a few days!”

“I am sure they will,” Ingrid said soothingly. “I am sure Lady Rhea would not allow anything to negatively impact our education here.”

The two girls meandered through the Officer’s Academy throughout the rest of the morning. Ingrid frequently stopped to point out various landmarks she had learned over her few previous days’ experience in Garreg Mach and to introduce Annette to her fellow students. Around noon, their stomachs began to croak loudly, and Ingrid proposed they head into the dining hall for some food. As she pushed open the door, Annette could smell the unmistakable scent of roasted chicken. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment. _I’m finally here,_ she thought happily, _and surely, I can find him now._

“Ingrid!” called a deep voice from across the room.

Annette startled out of her reverie and saw several young men sitting at a table across the room. The blond one was waving at Ingrid to catch her attention. He brought his arm back down as Ingrid made a beeline to them, Annette trailing in her wake. 

“Dimitri!” she said in a stern voice that was completely different from how she had spoken to Annette. She sounded very much like a mother scolding an unruly child. “What are you doing? Didn’t I ask you to greet the newcomers?”

“I was hungry,” Dimitri said calmly, gesturing to the plate of food in front of him. “No one else has arrived all morning except Felix here. Sylvain isn’t expected to arrive until later this evening, or perhaps tomorrow morning.” 

Ingrid did not look impressed, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she pulled Annette forward. “Annette, I want you to meet Dimitri, Crown Prince of Faerghus,” she intoned semi-formally. “And this scowling gentleman is Felix Hugo Fraldarius. If you can believe it,” she added with a wink to Annette, “I consider these two my friends.”

Annette gasped audibly and suddenly blanked on her manners. _Am I supposed to curtsy?_ she panicked inwardly, beginning to bend her legs into a formal obeisance. Dimitri raised his hands hastily in front of himself.

“Please, no need to be so formal,” he said quickly. “Although I may be a prince, I am merely a student while I am here at the Officer’s Academy. Please, do not treat me any differently than you would any other student.” He took her hand and shook it firmly. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance! I am Annette of House Dominic,” Annette stumbled over her words, feeling a little uneasy at being put on the spot like this. She hadn’t realized that the crown prince would also be attending the school as well. Her face seemed to be getting hot with embarrassment as Dimitri let go of her hand. She turned hastily to the dark-haired young man beside Dimitri. “Pleased to meet you as well,” she said with a slightly trembling cheeriness to her voice and holding out her hand. 

For a moment, she thought Felix would not acknowledge the gesture at all. He stared at her intently, as if searching her face for something she couldn’t identify. Annette felt her smile begin to falter just as he took her hand and shook it. His grip was much gentler than Dimitri’s had been. “The pleasure is mine,” he said in a tone that did not suggest he was particularly pleased at all. 

“Don’t mind him,” Ingrid said quickly as she caught the rather crestfallen look on Annette’s face. She shot Felix a nasty look to which he seemed indifferent. “He’s always grumpy like this. He’s actually a bit of softie when you get to know him.”

“I am no such thing,” Felix snapped, looking quite offended. Ingrid ignored him with the look of someone who had had many years of practice at doing just that. 

Annette thought she could sense some tension in the air between the three friends, so she did the only thing she could when she felt cornered. “What’s your name?” she blurted out in a rather high-pitched squeak, trying to shift the focus of the conversation entirely. No one had acknowledged the third man who sat on Dimitri’s left side, silent as a statue. 

The man blinked slowly, as if surprised that she had spoken to him at all. “I am Dedue,” he said in a neutral tone. He did not hold out his hand and he did not say anything more. 

“Dedue is my retainer,” Dimitri explained hastily when neither Ingrid nor Felix made any indication of speaking. “He has been by my side for several years now. He is also enrolled as a student here.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Annette soldiered on valiantly, looking Dedue directly in the eyes. She had the distinct feeling that she had touched on a sensitive subject among the group and inwardly bemoaned her chattering nature. 

An awkward silence settled over the group wherein Ingrid refused to look at Dedue, Dimitri played with the food on his plate while avoiding Ingrid’s eyes, and Felix stared at a spot just past Annette’s shoulder. After several long minutes, Ingrid finally broke it by insisting Annette get herself a plate of food and join them for lunch. Having no better thoughts on what to say or how to otherwise break the tension, Annette hurriedly agreed. They hastened off together to join the end of the meal line. 

“I’m finished,” Felix announced as Annette and Ingrid returned with their own meals a few minutes later. He looked angry as he stood abruptly from the table. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset about what I said,” Ingrid rolled her eyes and stabbed a potato with her fork more forcefully than needed. “I only spoke the truth.”

“Not at all,” Felix grunted unconvincingly. He nodded goodbye to them as he stood and gathered his tray. “I need to train.”

“It’s always training with you,” Ingrid complained, not bothering to watch him go. 

“Bye!” Annette replied cheerfully, waving goodbye with more enthusiasm now that her embarrassment had subsided. “See you in class!”

Felix looked rather startled at her enthusiasm but nodded once more directly to her. “I suppose so,” he agreed. After a final look over the group, he swept out of the dining hall without another word.

“Well…he was more friendly than I expected,” Ingrid mused, raising her eyes from her plate and staring at the door through which Felix had exited the room. “He’s usually less chatty around new people.”

“That…was chatty?” Annette repeated in surprise, pausing with her fork suspended halfway between her plate and her mouth. “He didn’t seem very friendly…”

Dimitri chuckled at this. “Ingrid is right. Felix is grumpy, but he is not a bad person. He’s very…” the prince thought for a moment, as if searching for the right word. “…direct. He doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean.”

“We have known each other for a very long time,” Ingrid said sagely. “He does not warm up to others quickly, but he is a hard worker and a very capable swordsman. He will certainly be an asset to our class.”

“I’m sure everyone in our class will get along!” Annette said. She smiled brightly, feeling her own cheerful confidence bubbling to the surface again. “Perhaps he is just a bit shy around new people!”

Ingrid and Dimitri laughed heartily at the thought that Felix could possibly be shy. Even Annette didn’t really believe that was the case, but the thought of it lightened the mood considerably. They fell into easy conversation over lunch and by the time they finished, Annette was quite certain that she would be just fine in this new school. Besides, she knew she wouldn’t be alone. Surely Mercie would be arriving soon as well. She would have one true friend and the opportunity to befriend the rest of the class as well. The thought made her excitement mount again. 

_This is where I need to be,_ Annette thought determinedly. _It’s my only chance to find him. I have to do all I can to make this work._


	2. In the Clouds

The following days at Garreg Mach Monastery were as eventful as that of Annette’s initial arrival. More students continued to arrive which kept Ingrid busy directing each one to their dormitory and bossing serving hands around with errands. Annette was happy to help Ingrid as much as possible with the work she had taken on, and cheerfully did anything she was asked. Although she kept her eyes open, she could not find _him_ anywhere. She tried not let it dampen her spirits and reminded herself that it was only a few days since she had arrived, and that he might be away right now. Surely he would return soon; patience was key.

The arrival of her best friend, Mercedes von Martritz, on the eve of their first day of school was the best thing that had happened since Annette had settled into her own routine. She was very glad to have a distraction from her incessant dwelling on her familial problems.

“Annie!” Mercedes cried upon catching sight of her standing in the doorway of her dormitory. She rushed over for a hug. “I’ve missed you so much! How have you been?”

“I’ve missed you too!” Annette gushed as she returned the hug with gusto. “I’m so glad you’re finally here! Term starts tomorrow you know.”

Mercedes nodded, her violet eyes looking forlorn. “Yes, unfortunately my departure was delayed. I was afraid I might be late for the start of the school year!” 

“I can help you unpack,” Annette offered happily, moving toward Mercedes’ luggage standing next to her desk. “So that you won’t have to do it tonight and you can get a good rest.”

“Thank you, but I can handle it later. There isn’t much to unpack, to be honest,” Mercedes replied warmly. “I’d much rather you show me around a little bit. I can’t wait to see everything and meet our fellow classmates!”

“I think we will have a very interesting class,” Annette commented as they strolled by the fishing pond. “I’ve met everyone else so far, and pretty much everyone is super nice! You met Ingrid, right?”

Mercedes nodded and giggled. “Yes, she greeted me once I arrived in the entrance hall. She was very kind to show me to the dormitory. She had a red-haired young man with her who carried my bags. He was very…confident.”

Annette giggled. “That’s a good word to describe Sylvain,” she agreed. “Have you met Prince Dimitri and Dedue?”

Mercedes nodded again. “We happened across them as Ingrid was leading me to my dormitory. He was very kind when he spoke to me. I didn’t expect a prince to be so friendly to a commoner like myself.”

“I know what you mean!” Annette said fervently, remembering how embarrassed she had felt when she first met Dimitri. “I didn’t know what to do when Ingrid introduced us. I just froze and he did most of the talking at first.”

“That’s not like you Annie,” Mercedes laughed merrily. “You’re the chattiest person I know! You don’t usually get tongue-tied. Anyway,” she continued after a moment. “Dimitri was very gracious, but Dedue hardly spoke at all.”

Having been here for several days, Annette had quickly realized where there was so much tension in a room with Dedue and why he was so quiet in a group setting. Annette had tried to engage him in conversation several times, but he had brushed off all her attempts so far. “I am from Duscur,” he would say, as if intoning a mantra that he had practiced many times before. “You should not associate with me. I will not reflect well on you.” 

“I think it is a bit sad,” Annette confided in a low voice as they crossed the stable-yard and headed toward the Officer’s Academy classrooms. “He does not seem like a bad person, and Dimitri likes him. But Dedue thinks so little of himself.”

“I agree,” Mercedes replied gravely. “I understand that the Tragedy of Duscur hurt many people in Faerghus, but I am certain that many people in Duscur were equally hurt in the conflict.” She sighed and looked across the lawn. “I hope that one day, our two peoples will be able to live in peace together once more.”

Annette nodded solemnly and the two girls shared a moment of silence. “If anyone can help change things,” Annette finally said, “It would be you, Mercie.”

They found a bench and sat together in the sunshine. “That’s Ashe,” Annette pointed to a boy leaving the Blue Lion classroom with a handful of books clutched tightly in his arms. His gray hair swayed in the breeze. Catching sight of them, he waved enthusiastically before rounding a corner and disappearing out of sight. “I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times, but he seems like a very studious person.”

“Much like you, Annie!” Mercedes pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders despite the sunny afternoon. “You’ve always worked so hard. I don’t know anyone who puts as much effort into anything as you do!”

Annette shrugged. “It’s the least I can do,” she said softly. “I have to work hard. There’s so much at stake and I’m the one who will inherit Barony Dominic one day. I have to be ready for that. And…you know…”

Her voice faded as her thoughts turned back to her lost father. She had confided her pain and her fears in Mercedes during their days together at the Royal School of Sorcery, and Mercedes had shown nothing but compassion for her younger friend. She patted Annette’s back soothingly as they sat together. “I know you will achieve everything you set out to do,” Mercedes told her. “Finding your father, succeeding your uncle, and becoming a great warlock! There is nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”

“Thanks Mercie,” Annette grinned. “I’m so glad I have you to back me up.”

Mercedes gave her back one more light rub and withdrew her hand. “Who’s that?” she asked interestedly, turning her head toward the far end of the lawn. Annette leaned past her friend and squinted her eyes to get a better look. 

“Well, that’s Felix with the dark hair,” she said. “He’s friends with Dimitri and Sylvain, I think. I’m not sure who it is that he’s talking to though.”

“Oh my, he doesn’t look very happy,” Mercedes said interestedly. The girls watched Felix halt with a strange woman beside him. She was only a little shorter than Felix and her hair was a much lighter shade of blue. Although they could not hear the conversation, Felix’s posture was stiff, and he was scowling darkly at the woman. 

She did not seem to be particularly bothered by his reaction. Whatever it was they were discussing, the woman obviously had come to some conclusion and abruptly turned on her heel and strode away. Felix stood there for a moment with a scowl still etched on his face and apparently a little dumbfounded. “I wonder what that was all about,” Annette said, staring at Felix with undisguised curiosity. “What do you think Mercie? Wait, where are you going?”

Mercedes had stood up and started walking toward Felix, who seemed to be carved from stone. “We’ll never know if we don’t go and ask him, right?” she said over her shoulder. “Besides, I haven’t introduced myself yet!” Without further ado, she kept walking.

Annette stared after her for a moment and hastily decided to follow.

“Hello,” Mercedes called to Felix as she approached. “How do you do? You’re Felix, aren’t you?”

Felix turned stiffly to face her as Annette skidded to a stop by her friend. “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “Um…nice day, huh?”

It sounded lame even to her own ears. Annette inwardly cringed at her inability to speak normally in front of Felix and blamed it on the fact that he appeared so intimidating. _Maybe if he wasn’t scowling so often,_ she thought crossly, _it would be easier to have an actual conversation!_

Felix’s eyes flickered toward her, but he made no reply. “That’s right,” he said coolly to Mercedes. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius. And who are you?”

If Mercedes was bothered by his bluntness, she didn’t show it. Annette wished that she had the same composure that her friend did. “I am Mercedes von Martritz,” she said cheerfully and shook his hand. His expression turned from a scowl to a look of vague surprise that someone would be so bold to shake his hand like that, but he returned the gesture. “Annie has been showing me around. I just arrived this morning.”

“I see,” he said with another glance at Annette. She felt her cheeks go slightly pink under his steely gaze. 

“We were wondering who that was you were speaking with just now,” Mercedes continued smoothly. She did not seem bothered by Felix’s unfriendly personality, but Mercedes never seemed to let anything bother her. It was a quality that Annette had always admired.

Felix seemed to consider this question before answering. “That,” he finally replied in a voice dripping with disdain, “is our new professor. Her name is Byleth.”

For a moment, even Mercedes was at a loss for words. This was not what either of the girls had expected to hear. Annette had figured it was another friend Felix must have known back in Fhirdiad.

“Our new professor?” Annette blurted out stupidly. “But…but…she looks like she’s our age! Are you sure?”

“Quite sure,” Felix muttered. His scowl was firmly back in place now. “That’s what she said to me.”

“How interesting!” Mercedes exclaimed and clapped her hands together. “Ingrid had mentioned to me when I arrived that there were currently only two professors here right now. I was worried that might impact our studies if they had to split teaching an extra class. I’m so glad to hear it’s been rectified!”

Felix shrugged. “As long as she’s strong, I don’t care how old she is.”

“Aren’t our class studies more important?” Annette interjected quickly, thinking this was a bizarre concern for a teacher. “I know we’re supposed to have classes on strategy in battle and—” 

“None of that matters if you’re strong enough to take on any foe,” Felix interrupted harshly. His eyes were blazing with a fire Annette had not seen in them before. “Strength is all you need in this world. It’s either kill or be killed.”

“That is an awfully cynical way of looking at the world,” Annette argued, standing her ground. She raised her chin slightly in a direct challenge. “There’s so many situations where you can’t simply battle your way out.”

Felix looked like he wanted to argue the point further, but Mercedes coughed lightly and said “Please, let’s not fight about this. Since we are classmates now, I think it would be best to set aside our differences and learn to get along.” She smiled sweetly at each of them. “Come on Annie, why don’t we see if there’s any sweets in the dining hall? Perhaps we will run into our new professor too!”

Annette broke her staring contest with Felix somewhat reluctantly. “Yes, that sounds great.”

“Excellent. Well, good day to you, Felix,” Mercedes smiled at him again and strode away calmly as if their discussion had been nothing but civil.

Annette made to follow her and paused a few paces away. Looking over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at Felix before hurrying away. Her face reddened as she turned. _Stupid!_ she thought angrily, _stupid! Why did I do that? Now I’ll never be able to look at him ever again!_

\---

It was still dark when Felix awoke on the morning of their first class. He dressed quickly and efficiently, swung his bookbag over his shoulder and headed out of the dormitory into the chill morning air. No one was wandering about at this time in the morning, so he knew he would have the training grounds to himself until class began. There was no better time to train than when no one else was there to distract him. 

Once upon a time, he had sparred with Glenn every morning. Regardless of the weather, Felix would follow his older brother to the training grounds at House Fraldarius and practice. He had idolized his brother, wanted nothing more than to be just like him. Eventually, Felix had dreamt of becoming a swordsman who could beat his brother in battle. Glenn had laughed at him when Felix told him that. “You’ll never beat me, little brother,” Glenn had laughed in his booming voice. “I’ll always be older and stronger than you!”

He had been right, of course. That was nothing more than a memory of happier times now. Glenn was dead; Felix could never beat a dead man. Perhaps the Goddess saw some irony in this, that Felix would continue to train every morning to win a fight that would never happen. He wondered if Glenn watched him from the afterlife and laughed along with her at his brother’s fruitless attempts to prepare for an unwinnable battle. 

The training grounds were indeed deserted. Felix dropped his bag on a bench on the edge of room and drew his sword. He raised his blade high and brought it down in a single, clean movement. He turned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, careful to maintain his proper balance. As he shifted through the familiar movements, Felix’s mind began to find a sense of calm. He was no longer thinking of Glenn, nor of his father, or anyone else. In fact, he was not truly thinking of anything at all. It was only Felix and his blade in a world where no one else existed. 

It seemed all too soon that Felix could hear a loud chiming echoing into his head, breaking his concentration. The sun had long since risen in the sky, and there were muffled voices passing by outside the doors to the training ground. _Time for class,_ he thought grumpily. Taking a deep breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow, sheathed his blade, and made his way toward the Blue Lion classroom. 

As he turned the corner into the Officer’s Academy and approached their classroom, Felix came face to face with Annette, the silly girl from the day before. Her bookbag was slung over her shoulder and looked like it was about to split down the seam. She froze when she caught sight of him. “Good morning,” he said, gesturing for her to enter first. It was only polite, after all. Ingrid could accuse him of being grumpy all she wanted, but Felix would be damned before he gave her a reason to accuse him of being ungentlemanly. 

Annette blinked twice with wide eyes, stammered out a muffled “G’morning” without looking at him, and fled into the room as if she was being chased by the King of Liberation himself. Feeling somewhat bemused, Felix followed her and took a seat by himself three rows from the back of the class. He saw Annette hurry over to her blonde friend in the front row on the other side of the room and slide so quickly onto the bench beside Mercedes that she almost fell off. 

_What is with this girl?_ he wondered, idly twirling a quill between his fingers as he watched Annette steady herself. He could hear her giggle as Mercedes bent closer to whisper something in her ear. _She has to be the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met._

“Hey, earth to Felix!” said a familiar voice. He felt a hand clap him heavily on the shoulder. “You in there?”

“What do you want?” Felix snapped as he jerked his shoulder out of Sylvain’s grip.

“Just checking to see if you’re still with us on earth,” the other man said with a smirk. He dropped his school bag on the floor beside the desk and took a seat beside Felix. “It’s not like you to lose your head in the clouds.”

Felix snorted. “I do not daydream, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Whatever you say,” Sylvain replied, still smirking. “You looked rather intent. Is something on your mind?” Sylvain gasped and learned closer. “Don’t tell me it’s a _girl?_ ”

“Of course not!” Felix spat, looking affronted. “I’m not _you._ ”

“More’s the pity,” Sylvain said with a dramatic sigh. “I suppose it’s for the better. That just means there’s more ladies for me.”

Felix rolled his eyes and decided not to respond. He bent down to pull a notebook out of his bag. “Speaking of women, where’s that professor of ours?”

Sylvain glanced around. “No idea,” he replied lazily, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. “Do we get to leave if she’s not here in fifteen minutes?”

“I won’t hang around,” Felix said darkly. “I could be using the time for training if she’s not going to bother showing up. It would certainly be more productive.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” came a voice from behind them. The new teacher stood there with her arms crossed and her face as blank as the chalkboard. “Class will begin now.”

\---

After a single day of classes with Professor Byleth, there was no one who could deny that she had talent. She was well versed in battle tactics, knowledgeable about a variety of fighting techniques, and she was _strong._ She was the daughter of the legendary former Captain of the Knights of Seiros, although no one would have guessed it even if they stood side by side. Although her face showed no emotion whatsoever and her voice was practically monotone, her skill with a blade was undeniable. Felix had been practicing his swordplay since before he could write his own name, so he could easily recognize skill when he saw it. It piqued his interest in their new Professor more than he had thought possible from their first meeting. His sword-hand itched to cross their blades, to test his own mettle so that he would grow even stronger.

“There will be a mock battle between the three houses,” Professor Byleth announced at the end of class. They had just returned from the training grounds where she had tested each student individually to get a sense of their aptitudes. “It will take place tomorrow and is intended to assess your abilities as well as your weaknesses. From there, we will work to hone your current skillset and correct your failings.”

There was some general murmuring at this announcement, however Professor Byleth ignored it. “Please ensure you sleep adequately to ensure that you are prepared for tomorrow’s battle. Sleep deprivation will not only hinder your own performance, but also will put your comrades in danger.” She paused to see if anyone had further questions. “Class is dismissed.”

“A mock battle, huh? What do you think of that, Felix?” Sylvain asked as they exited the classroom together. Felix shrugged as he swung his bookbag over his shoulder.

“I’m not concerned,” he replied absently as they followed Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette toward the dining hall. The three women were talking animatedly together and laughing heartily. He could hear Annette’s voice rising in pitch as they gossiped ahead of him. _What in the world are they laughing about?_ Felix wondered. Were girls always this loud when they travelled in a group? He figured Sylvain probably knew, but as he had never spent much time in the company of multiple women at once, Felix had no idea.

“Felix!” 

He snapped back to reality. “What?” he asked irritably. 

“I asked you a question,” Sylvain said, raising his eyebrows as they entered the dining hall. “You had your head in the clouds again.”

Felix snorted. “Nonsense.”

“Then what did I ask you?” the other man smirked triumphantly.

“Something undoubtedly frivolous and pointless,” Felix grunted as he joined the end of the meal line. A couple of Black Eagle students had managed to get in line between the three girls and himself, for which Felix found himself grateful. It would be much easier to focus on Sylvain’s inane prattle if he wasn’t distracted by how loudly those girls had been gossiping. 

“You wound me,” Sylvain moaned in mock distress. “Seriously though Felix,” he continued in a more serious tone. “Something is on your mind. You can confide in me, you know.”

“There’s nothing on my mind,” he retorted, an edge creeping into his voice. “I was thinking about tomorrow’s battle, that’s all.”

Sylvain was unconvinced. “Look,” he said quietly. “I know you. I’ve known you since we were kids. I’d say that other than Dimitri or Ingrid, I probably know you better than anyone. Don’t think I didn’t notice what you were doing throughout class today.”

Felix felt his hackles rising. “What are you trying to say?” he asked in a low voice. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bookbag. He pointedly ignored Ingrid’s greeting as she walked past with a tray of food. He also ignored Mercedes who waved to them. He absolutely did _not_ look at Annette as she tried valiantly to pretend that he wasn’t there either.

Sylvain smirked again. “It’s fine if you don’t want to admit it,” he said with a wink. “Just remember that if you ever need to talk about… _something,_ you can come to me.”


	3. Melody From the Past

On the following morning, the Blue Lion class gathered to participate in the mock battle that Professor Byleth had told them about the previous day. “It would be best if we can win,” she explained tonelessly, her eyes vacantly scanning the group. “I will direct you all where to go and who to target. You must follow my orders exactly to ensure the best chance of success. Remember that in a real battle, if you do not follow orders, you will endanger yourself as well as your comrades.”

The class nodded solemnly at her words. “Dimitri, I want you to begin over there at base of that pathway,” Professor Byleth said blandly. “Sylvain and Felix, I want you to flank him. Mercedes, you follow them and provide any healing necessary. Be sure to stay back so that you’re not in range of the enemy.”

All four nodded and moved to their designated location without argument. Professor Byleth surveyed the remaining students. “Dedue, you and Ashe can start over there, just a little way up that path. Annette, you follow behind them and stick to the trees. Provide cover fire as you engage the Black Eagles. Ingrid, you’ll be with me.”

Annette felt her nerves flare in her chest as she moved to take her place in the shelter of the trees that the Professor had indicated. She watched Ingrid dutifully follow Professor Byleth toward another copse of trees across from where Dimitri’s group was set up. Even if it was only a mock battle, she couldn’t help but feel anxious. What if she missed her targets and someone was injured due to her carelessness? 

_I’ll look like an idiot,_ she thought gloomily. _Everyone will wonder how I ever got a recommendation here if I can’t even follow simple orders. I’ll be a laughingstock!_

“Annette, are you all right?” Dedue asked, his tone concerned and his eyes sharp. “You look pale. Should I alert Professor Byleth?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just a little nervous.”

Dedue nodded. “I understand. Please, stay back so that you do not risk injury.”

“We’ll protect you,” Ashe agreed boldly, almost managing to keep an edge of panic out of his voice. Annette couldn’t help but notice that he looked as anxious as she felt. His hands were trembling on his bow.

“Thank you. I know we can get through it together!” Annette said with a hopefulness that she did not quite feel. 

“I hear the Professor’s signal,” Dedue said suddenly. He glanced toward where she and Ingrid had set up their attack. “She has ordered us to move forward and engage the enemy.” His face looked as though it was carved from stone, and Annette recognized a fierce pride in his eyes. “Let us go.”

Annette exchanged a nervous glance with Ashe. “Yes,” she agreed. “Let us begin.”

\---

Just as Professor Byleth had said, the mock battle was a true test of their strengths and weaknesses. Annette was not used to casting so many spells in quick succession and found her magical strength waning much faster than she had anticipated. “I’m sorry,” she panted to her partners. “I can’t…I can’t cast any more spells right now. I’m completely drained.”

Dedue only nodded curtly as he took on a defensive stance in front of her. Edelgard, Princess of the Adrestrian Empire was approaching with her axe raised. She looked like she would have had no qualms striking a killing blow had she not been using a blunted weapon. Her eyes shone with a warlike vigor that Annette could not match.

“We have reinforcements approaching from behind,” Ashe called. He nocked an arrow on his bow and took a shot at Edelgard. She dodged easily, but it slowed down her advance. “Dimitri, Felix, and Professor Byleth!”

Annette glanced over her shoulder and hefted her own axe. It was heavy, and she wasn’t used to using a physical weapon. Professor Byleth had insisted that she take it anyway, just in case she found herself unable to cast spells. “Thank the Goddess,” she said fervently as their comrades gained the top of the hill. 

The Professor assessed the scene in seconds, her blueish eyes flashing. “Annette, retreat to the trees. Ashe,” she ordered in a crisp voice. “You take Annette’s place here and provide cover fire. Dimitri, go ahead and engage Edelgard. Felix, you provide backup support.”

Annette didn’t need to be told twice. She turned on her heel to make her retreat as quickly as possible, and promptly tripped over a stray stone laying on the path behind her. She closed her eyes and braced for a fall into the dirt. The axe she was holding landed with a dull _thunk_ as she felt her stomach collide with something solid. 

“Go!” Felix snapped at her. He pulled his arm away as she regained her balance and sprinted after Dimitri without another word. 

Annette felt too surprised to move for a moment. She stared at Felix’s back until he reached Dimitri and parried a blow from Edelgard that ought to have caught the prince’s exposed side. Shaking her head to regain some sense of reality, she hastily picked up her fallen axe and retreated as ordered. From the safety of the trees, Annette watched the final battle play out. Ashe had taken a blow from Hubert, Edelgard’s loyal retainer, during her escape which forced him to retreat as well. 

Professor Byleth did not seem concerned that several of her students had been forced to retreat. She stood tall on the battlefield, holding her sword out and shouting orders that Annette was not able to hear. Annette could see that only Edelgard and Hubert remained, and they were outnumbered. She must have ordered Felix to engage Hubert, as he surged forward suddenly with his own blade pulled back for a hard thrust. Dedue was still supporting Dimitri’s battle with Edelgard, his big frame blocking Edelgard’s attacks so that the prince could stab his lance toward her. 

“It’s amazing to watch, isn’t it?” Ashe said conversationally, apparently entranced with the events ahead of them. There was a tone of awe in Ashe’s voice as he clutched his bow tightly in his hand.

“Definitely,” Annette nodded in agreement, avidly watching Felix advance closer to Hubert. “His moves are so smooth!”

Ashe nodded excitedly. “I agree! He really knows how to move like a true knight! I hope I can learn to fight like that one day.”

“It must be difficult,” Annette replied earnestly, watching Hubert barely dodge Felix’s blade in time. “I can’t imagine how anyone can fight so…deftly! These weapons are so heavy!”

“He’s practiced since he was a child,” Ashe said knowledgeably. “Dimitri must be used to lifting weapons like that and using them like they’re a part of himself. It takes years of training to become that good!”

“Dimitri?” Annette said in confusion, shaking her head at Ashe. “I thought we were talking about Felix.”

“Felix?” Ashe echoed in an equal amount of confusion. He shifted his gaze to the other battle just as Hubert finally fell in defeat. “He’s very good too.”

“Do you want to become a knight, Ashe?” Annette decided to change the subject as Professor Byleth glanced in their direction. 

“Oh, yes! It’s always been my dream,” Ashe said wistfully, apparently pleased that she had asked. 

“That’s wonderful!” Annette exclaimed, turning her full attention to him. He looked startled at her sudden enthusiasm. “You must be looking forward to more mock battles like this to hone your skills.”  


“Well, yes, I suppose so,” Ashe said quickly, sounding flustered. “It would be a great way to improve—”

Whatever Ashe was about to say was lost over the victory cry from the top of the hill where Dimitri had pinned Edelgard on the ground. The tip of his lance was buried in the dirt by her head. Professor Byleth motioned that the battle was at an end. Annette bounded out of the trees and stretched her arms above her head. “Finally,” she groaned. “It’s finally over. I’m exhausted now.”

“Me too,” Ashe said feelingly. “Come on, let’s join the others with Professor Byleth.”

The two of them hurried up the path and rejoined the group. The Professor had already begun a battle debrief.

“We did well today, with only three combatants needing to retreat,” she was saying, arms folded across her chest. “The Blue Lions are victorious in this battle. I will prepare lesson plans to rectify some formation flaws and to brush up on some battle basics. We need to be as prepared as possible since we have been given a mission to complete at the end of this month.”

“A mission?” Dimitri probed curiously. His face glistened with sweat from the exertion of battle. “What kind of mission?”

Professor Byleth looked at him expressionlessly. “We will be routing the bandits infesting the Red Canyon,” she replied neutrally. “It will be a real battle with real stakes. We cannot afford to be sloppy.”

A tense silence fell over the group. Professor Byleth looked at each of them as if she was trying to determine who would be the biggest liability. Annette had a feeling it was probably her, although Ashe could be a contender too. He looked anxious, though he was trying not to let it show.

“Finally, a battle worthy of my time,” Felix said in a dangerous voice. He had a fierce glow about him in the aftermath of the skirmish and his eyes blazed with a fire that hadn’t yet died.

“We must be careful,” Ingrid warned him in a firm voice, hands on her hip and meeting Felix’s intense gaze without a hint of intimidation. “It’s not a solo show you know!”

“We will only be successful if we work together,” Mercedes said calmly. “Let us return to the Monastery so that we can prepare.”

\---

The dining hall was a festive place that evening as the Blue Lions gathered to celebrate their victory in the mock battle. Annette felt happy amongst her new friends and chatted animatedly with Ashe across the table about his knightly dreams. He was eager to engage in the conversation, happily detailing all the research he’d done about knights and their deeds. As she listened Annette wondered, not for the first time, if she really knew what she’s gotten herself into by coming here to train amongst so many people who valued knighthood. _I’m not here to become a knight,_ Annette thought as she listened to Ashe discuss the finer points of knightly values with Ingrid. _I only have one purpose here._

Throughout the meal, Annette kept her eyes peeled for any sign of him, as if he might just casually stroll by to congratulate her class on a job well done, even though she hadn’t yet seen him since arriving at Garreg Mach. Truly, it had only been a few days, but a part of Annette couldn’t help but feel crushed that she’d seen neither hide nor tail of the man. Abruptly, Annette realized her mind was wandering and decided it would be best to excuse herself from the gathering before anyone noticed.

“Sorry,” she interrupted Ashe’s monologue with a slightly forced smile. “I’m feeling pretty tired. I think I’m going to head to bed now.”

Mercedes stopped her conversation with Sylvain mid-sentence to turn and look at her. “Oh, don’t worry Annie,” she said kindly. “You worked very hard today. Go and rest now, so that you don’t fall ill.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain agreed with a casual wave of his hand. “We wouldn’t want your pretty face to develop bags under your eyes!”

Mercedes giggled. “Good night, Annie.”

Disentangling herself from the dining hall benches, Annette rushed out of the hall toward the fishing pond as it seemed to be the most direct route if she were to return to her dormitory. Which she wasn’t, of course. Annette felt a small tinge of guilt for lying to Mercedes as she turned left at the foot of the stairs and hurried in the direction of the stables. She tried to convince herself that she hadn’t been trying hard enough to find him since she arrived. The monastery was huge, and she certainly hadn’t been here long enough to have explored every nook and cranny. _In fact,_ Annette thought desperately, _I’ve really only stayed near the Officer’s Academy. I haven’t gone to the knight’s hall or the second floor. I only visited the Cathedral once. If he’s here, I just haven’t visited any of his usual haunts._

It was a comforting thought, even if in her heart she didn’t really believe it. Trying to keep up a sense of hope, she crossed the stables and jogged up to the knight’s hall. He was a knight after all, he would _definitely_ be here. She bit her lower lip and hesitantly reached for the door handle. 

_What if I’m wrong?_ she wondered fretfully. _What if he’s not here and he’ll never come back here? Will this whole plan be a complete waste?_

The brass handle felt cool in her hand. Annette felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest. She was so close to finding him that the possibility of him not even being at the Monastery filled her with an inescapable sense of despair. She drew in a breath to steady her resolve and gripped the handle tighter in her hand. She tried to yank it open, but her arm didn’t seem to follow orders. _I…I can do this,_ she thought bravely. _I have to do this!_

“Do you need assistance?” 

Annette was so startled to hear a voice from behind her that she jumped several feet into the air and stumbled backwards. She seemed to collide with a pair of solid hands which helped keep her upright. “Fa—!” she cried as she turned in a flurry of movement. “Oh.”

Felix raised an eyebrow at her. His sword hung loosely at his side. He never seemed to go anywhere without it. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, dropping her gaze. “I thought you might be someone else.”

“Unfortunately, I am very much myself,” Felix said bitterly. He looked angry, but his eyes seemed like they were staring inward at a memory he didn’t much enjoy. 

“I didn’t hear you behind me,” she said crossly, trying to regain some sense of control over the situation. Annette tried to glare at him, but it was much harder to appear intimidating when she had to look up to peer at Felix’s face. “You should have said something! You can’t just sneak up on people like that to give them a good scare!”

He snorted derisively and looked back toward her. “I did,” he said coolly. “I said ‘Hello, Annette,’ but you didn’t respond.”

“Oh,” Annette replied rather lamely. “Um…sorry about that. I guess I was blocking the way in.”

She thought for a moment that he had chuckled at that. “Indeed, you were,” he said frankly, and then repeated his earlier question. “Did you need assistance with the door?”

Annette glanced behind her. “Well…yes, I do,” she admitted. “I tried to open it but…it’s pretty heavy.” She didn’t want to admit that she had frozen up with her own anxiety and had simply failed to make her arm do what it was told. 

Felix didn’t wait for her to finish the explanation. He brushed past her and pulled the door open with one swift motion. His eyes slid back to Annette. “There you go,” he said, motioning again for her to enter first. She recalled he had done that yesterday too when they arrived at class at the same time.

“Thank you,” she said humbly. The sense of dread that had been filling her before was back. Nervously, she took a couple of hesitant steps into the room. It was well-lit from sconces along the walls. A blazing fire to the far side kept the room warm. She took a few more hesitant steps into the room and looked from one end to the other.

It was completely deserted.

Her shoulders slumped. “Damn it,” Annette cursed quietly. Her hands seemed to ball into fists at her side of their own accord.

Felix slipped in behind her and let the door shut to keep the warmth of the fire from escaping into the cool spring evening. “Looks like there’s nobody here,” he observed blandly. Noticing her defeated posture, he came and stood beside her. “Who were you looking for anyway?” he asked with another raised eyebrow.

“No one,” Annette mumbled untruthfully, avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me,” Felix grunted and folded his arms over his chest. 

“It’s nothing with which you need to concern yourself,” she responded tersely. Annette realized that her fists were still clenched at her sides, so she awkwardly tried to relax them.

“Fine,” Felix replied shortly. He flexed his fingers over the hilt of his sword. “Annette, I don’t care if you stick around or not, but if you’re going to stay, I would suggest you move _off_ of the sparring range.”

Annette hadn’t noticed where she had stopped and belatedly realized she was indeed surrounded by numerous training dummies. Several had straw hanging out of them at odd angles. “Right,” she muttered. Coming to the knight’s hall and not finding him here had drained her resolve more than she would have thought possible. With no clear idea of where else to look at that moment, Annette moved without really thinking. She shuffled past a training dummy and stumbled over a barrel she hadn’t seen, cursing again under her breath. If Felix noticed any of this, he didn’t say anything. 

She made her way to the plush couches in front of the fire and slumped down with her back to the sparring range. Annette sighed deeply and stared at her feet. _What do I do now?_

A movement of grey and white caught her eye from under the coffee table. Two green eyes blinked slowly at her. “A cat?” she said aloud, bending down to get a better look. “Here, kitty.”

Annette held out her hand for the cat to sniff. It came forward cautiously and sniffed the tips of her fingers. After several moments, it apparently decided that she was trustworthy and slid out from under the table. The cat was lean with patches of grey and white fur. It meowed in a high-pitched tone at Annette and leaped gracefully onto the couch beside her. 

“Aren’t you a sweetie,” Annette crooned at the cat and patting its head gently. The cat seemed to take this as an invitation to come closer and promptly laid across her lap purring loudly. Annette smiled down at the cat and stroked its back. “Yes, you’re such a sweetie. What’s your name?”

The cat did not respond, instead opting to continue purring contentedly as Annette ran her hand along its back. Despite the despair trying to cling to her heart, Annette couldn’t help but smile. She hummed a tune that her mother had loved to do when Annette was still a small child. The cat stretched again and closed its eyes in a blissful rest. She wished that she could feel as safe and happy as the cat in her lap as she absently scratched behind its ears. 

Annette wasn’t sure how long it was that she had sat on the couch while Felix trained in the sparring range behind her. She was motionless except for the rhythmic stroking on the cat in her lap. She was silent except for the low hum of an old tune that reminded her of a much happier, and much more distant, childhood. Lost in thoughts of her old life, she felt tears begin to well in the corners of her eyes. 

“I see you have a new friend,” Felix commented suddenly. Annette looked up at him, unsurprised by his appearance this time having heard his boots crossing the room. “He looks comfortable.”

“I think it’s a she,” Annette corrected him quietly, not looking up. 

“I see. Does she have a name?” Felix asked. He took a seat on the couch beside hers and stared into the fire. 

Annette shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You should give her one,” Felix said matter-of-factly. 

Annette thought about this suggestion for a moment. She hadn’t realized Felix had such a soft side that he would encourage giving a name to a stray cat. Perhaps Ingrid had been right about him after all. “Maybe….Luna?” Annette mused slowly, her brows furrowed. “Because we met at nighttime.”

Felix nodded approvingly. “A good name,” he agreed. 

They sat in a companionable silence for several minutes while Luna purred contentedly as Annette stroked her back. Felix had closed his eyes and tipped his head back over the top of the couch. His arms were crossed loosely, and his long legs stretched awkwardly under the coffee table. Annette had a feeling he wasn’t really sleeping. 

“By the way,” she said hesitantly, nervously breaking the silence between them. “I never thanked you earlier.”

The man didn’t open his eyes. “Thank me for what?” he said quietly.

“For saving me from falling during the battle,” Annette replied. Her ears felt hot. “You didn’t have to do that. So, thank you.”

Felix snorted. “No, I didn’t,” he agreed. His eyes were still closed. “But I’m not so cruel as to let someone get hurt when I’m in a position to help. Even if it _is_ due to their own carelessness.” 

Annette laughed softly. “Ingrid was right,” she said teasingly. She hoped this conversation would keep her own despair at bay for just a little longer. “You really are a big softie!”

Felix opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. “I’m no such thing,” he echoed his previous denial, although Annette noticed it was with much less force. 

“Thank you for letting me stay here while you practiced,” Annette continued. Her voice was quivering now. She felt tears beginning to form in her eyes again. “I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

Felix shrugged carelessly, but he was watching Annette closely now. “I told you I didn’t care one way or the other,” he reminded her in an even tone. “As long as you don’t get in the way of my training.”

She smiled weakly and stared down at the cat in her lap. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back the flood of emotion that was building inside her. “I won’t,” she promised, wiping away a stray tear. 

“Annette.” Felix moved from his seat and knelt in front of her. He placed both hands firmly on her shoulders. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Annette lied, forcing a cheerful laugh. “I think…maybe I’m allergic to Luna’s hair. It’s making my eyes water.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled for the second time that night. He seemed genuinely concerned. “I’m not stupid, Annette. Even I can tell when someone is upset. I just told you, I’m not so cruel that I would leave someone to get hurt when I could help.”

“I know,” she sniffed, trying to keep her voice steady. “I know. But…I’m sorry, Felix. I can’t tell you right now. Maybe…another time, when I’m not…like this.”

Felix sighed and pulled a plain white handkerchief out if his pocket. It was embroidered in the corner with the Crest of House Fraldarius. “Here,” he said quietly, gently pushing it into her hand. “Dry your eyes. You can’t go back to your room like this.”

“Thank you,” she hiccupped. Annette dabbed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady her breathing. Felix remained kneeling in front of her. His amber eyes were warmer than she had seen them before. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start crying like that.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Felix insisted firmly. “Everyone cries sometimes. Don’t push yourself. I’ll wait for you.”

“Wait for me?” she repeated blankly, holding the handkerchief loosely in one hand. 

Felix stared at her for a moment. “You don’t honestly think I’d leave you alone to return to your dorm in this state, do you?” he asked incredulously. He turned his face heavenward. “What did I do to earn Sylvain’s reputation, of all people?”

In spite of her sorrow, Annette couldn’t help but giggle. “Thank you,” she said after collecting herself. 

Satisfied that she wasn’t about to burst into tears again, Felix returned to his couch. “What was it you were humming before?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t recognize the tune.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had heard that,” Annette felt a little embarrassed at the thought of Felix listening to her humming. She hadn’t shared any of her songs with anyone before, not even with Mercedes. “Um…it was just an old ditty my mother used to sing to me as a child. I thought it might cheer me up but obviously it did the opposite.”

“It seemed calming,” Felix commented with a sidelong glance at her. “Perhaps it will work better another time.”

“I hope so,” she agreed. They sat in silence for several more minutes while Annette dabbed the remaining tears from her face. “Thank you, Felix. I feel much better now.”

“Good,” he said in a businesslike voice. Rising from his seat, Felix held out a hand to Annette. “Let’s return to the dormitory.”

She accepted his proffered hand and felt his fingers gently tighten as he helped pull her to her feet. The cat meowed in dismay as she was knocked from her perch and stalked away huffily. Annette giggled. She thought she could even see the corners of Felix’s mouth twitch toward a smile, but it was gone before it had even really formed. Strapping his sword back onto his hip, Felix went to the door and pushed it open. The cool night air felt refreshing to Annette as she followed him out. Watching Felix walk ahead of her, his back straight and head held high, Annette wished that she too would one day be able to walk with that kind of confidence.


	4. False Confidence

In the week following Annette’s sudden breakdown in the knight’s hall, Felix felt uncomfortably aware of her presence. He was not seeking her out, but during classes he began to catch himself staring toward the front row where she sat beside Mercedes. In the dining hall, he realized he would scan it as he entered to see if she was there and who was with her. During his free time, if he wasn’t careful, Felix noticed he would wander in the direction of the knight’s hall for training that he would typically use the outdoor training grounds for instead. In the evenings when he would head back to his room to get some rest, he would glance at Annette’s door and see if there was light filtering out from beneath it. He wondered if she was alone and crying behind the privacy of her own four walls. 

These actions would not ordinarily have bothered Felix very much. He would do—and had done— this for any of his long-time friends. He was not ashamed to show concern for his friends from time to time, few as they were. They had stood by him when Glenn died despite how his grief at the loss had turned to rage against them time and time again. They had stood by him despite how they too were suffering in the aftermath of the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix was not a person who typically wore his heart on his sleeve, but he certainly didn’t consider himself carved from ice. He was perfectly capable of caring for another human being in his own way, even though he tried not to do it very much. Emotions were dangerous for a warrior, so Felix tried very hard not to engage in them whenever possible.

No, the real problem with these new habits was that they did not go unnoticed by everyone else. 

“Earth to Felix!” Sylvain waved his hand in front of Felix’s face during class one morning. He was grinning widely, a state which, in and of itself, was not all that unusual on the redhead. 

“What do you want?” Felix snarled, tearing his eyes away from the back of Annette’s head. Her hair was braided in a short tail today. He had a feeling Mercedes had had a hand in doing that. 

Sylvain laughed as though Felix had told a particularly funny joke. “Just making sure you’re with me here,” he said casually, his brown eyes glinting mischievously. “We’re supposed to be working through this exercise the Professor assigned.”

“I’ve finished it already,” Felix said, flipping his notebook closed so that Sylvain couldn’t copy his answers. “It’s not that difficult if you were paying attention to the lecture.”

“Oh, like _you’re_ one to talk about paying attention in class,” Sylvain rolled his eyes. That stupid grin was still plastered on his face. “Mr. I-Can’t-Stop-Staring-At-Annette!”

“Would you _shut up?_ ” Felix snapped irritably. “Don’t say such stupid things. It makes you look more idiotic than usual.”

The jibe didn’t bother Sylvain in the slightest. “Okay, okay,” he said placatingly and lowering his voice by several octaves. “But seriously, I’ve never seen you _this_ interested in anyone else since…well…since Glenn was around.”

Felix had no witty reply to this. He knew it was true. “What about it?” he said instead. He tried to inject some venom into his tone to discourage a response, though he probably shouldn’t have bothered. Sylvain was quite used to dealing with Felix’s testy personality. 

“You know, it’s okay to like a girl,” Sylvain continued conversationally in the same low voice. “It’s normal!”

“It’s not like that at all,” Felix retorted. He didn’t want to explain the real reason behind his concern for Annette to Sylvain. It didn’t seem appropriate to share the scene from the other night with him, even if they were best friends. 

“Then what is it like?” Sylvain teased, completely ignoring his unfinished work. “You know that Ingrid and Dimitri have both noticed as well, right?”

Felix made a non-committal grunt that Sylvain obviously took for a “yes”. Ingrid had already cornered him the evening before by blocking the exit to the dining hall and demanding to know why he was so interested in the red-headed mage girl. Just as with Sylvain, Felix had absolutely refused to admit any kind of romantic interest in Annette and could not justify revealing what had happened in the knight’s hall to pique his concern. Therefore, he had no choice but to withstand an onslaught of questions and jibes from his friends on the matter. Ingrid had become surprisingly protective of Annette since her arrival at Garreg Mach and made it abundantly clear to Felix that he had better keep his “thorny personality” to himself or he would regret it. 

“You know, she speaks very highly of you,” Sylvain went on as though Felix was actively participating in the conversation. “I can’t see where she got the idea that you’re a nice guy, but whatever it was…”

“Is that so?” Felix said vaguely. Annette had stood up and gone to Professor Byleth at the front desk with her notebook in hand. She didn’t look like she was in immediate danger of crying again. He supposed he ought not worry anymore and that he really should put those feelings aside again. “Probably from the mock battle. I caught her before she fell.”

“Maybe…” Sylvain murmured, though he didn’t sound convinced. He followed Felix’s gaze. “You know, she _is_ pretty cute.”

Felix groaned in exasperation. “This conversation is going nowhere,” he said impatiently. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing going on between us.”

“And I’ve already told you that I think that excuse is bull—”

Professor Byleth had stood up and called attention to the front of the room. “It seems that most of you have finished the assignment,” she said in her typical monotone voice with a bland look at Sylvain. Annette had settled back into her seat and was staring intently at the Professor. She _looked_ fine from where Felix was sitting, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still deeply troubling her. “We are only a few weeks away from our first real mission, so please be sure to spend some extra time training your skills.”

Professor Byleth glanced down at her notes. “I’ll be holding individual instructions over the coming week or so,” she continued tonelessly. “I will be going over the results of your participation in the mock battle and drawing up a personal lesson plan to help you develop a variety of other skills. More skills in battle is more tools in hand to keep you alive.” 

Turning to the chalkboard, Professor Byleth began to draw a table with several rows and columns. “In addition,” she went on. “The curriculum at Garreg Mach requires all students to take part in daily and weekly chores. This is intended to build character and hone some of your other abilities which are not strictly related to the battlefield, such as horseback riding, general physical strength, and dexterity.”

She began to fill in a calendar of activities on the board. The class watched with interest as she assigned different individuals and groups to a variety of tasks. “I will post each month’s schedule on the board here,” she said. “Please be sure to stay abreast of your expected work for the month. If you are unable to complete a task, it is your responsibility to find a replacement.”

Professor Byleth made a few more additions to her calendar and set the chalk down. “This schedule is effective tomorrow,” she advised in a clear voice. “Class dismissed.” 

Several students hurried over to the board to check the schedule and make a note of their tasks for the remainder of the month, Annette among them. Felix waited for the crowd to disperse before making his way over to see what work he had been assigned.

Unfortunately, he was scheduled on stable duty with Ingrid the following day which undoubtably meant she would try to pry for more details about his fascination with Annette. He was scheduled on cooking duty with Dimitri the day after that which would probably also result in further questions about her. Thankfully, he had a day to himself to tidy the training grounds following cooking duty so he might then get a rare moment of peace and quiet. 

He re-read the schedule and noticed that Annette had several chores of her own with both Ingrid and Mercedes. He wondered sourly if Ingrid would try to pry anything from Annette about him. If what Sylvain had said was true, she’d been telling others about how kind he had been to her. Somehow, he doubted that Ingrid would try as hard to get information out of Annette as she would with him though; Ingrid wouldn’t be very concerned if she upset Felix. They’d known each other for too long for her to worry if he was annoyed with her nosey questions.

“Disappointed that your girl isn’t scheduled for any chores with you?” Sylvain teased as he slung an arm around Felix’s shoulders companionably. 

“She isn’t ‘my girl’,” Felix growled as he shook off Sylvain’s arm irritably. He glanced over his shoulder, but nobody else was left in the room. _Thank the Goddess for that small mercy,_ he thought spitefully. “I’m just checking my own schedule.”

“Sure, sure,” Sylvain said blithely. “You keep telling yourself that, Felix.” 

\---

True to her word, Professor Byleth had scheduled his individual consultation a few days after the chore schedule was posted. By this point in the week, Felix was already in a very foul mood. Between stable duty with Ingrid and cooking duty with Dimitri where neither one of them refused to drop the subject of Annette, Felix’s temper was dangerously high. He was greatly looking forward to heading over the training grounds immediately after this ridiculous meeting so that he could let out some of his pent-up anger on some unsuspecting dummies. 

“Welcome, Felix,” Professor Byleth said. He thought she sounded less robotic than usual as she poured him some tea. “Would you like some? It is Four-Spice Blend.”

“Yes, thank you,” Felix replied with as much politeness as he could muster. The smell of the tea was quite soothing. It had been his mother’s favourite, long ago. His father rarely drank tea, but he had inherited his taste for it from her.

Professor Byleth settled herself comfortably in her own chair and pulled over a stack of parchments. She flipped through them until she found one with Felix’s name at the top. “Right,” she said as she scanned the document. “I’ll start by saying that your skill with a sword is very good. You had no noticeable mistakes with your form, and you will likely only continue to improve with further training.”

Felix took another sip of tea. “I’m glad to hear it. Care to train with me, Professor? I’m sick of battling weak opponents. You seem like would be a worthy adversary.”

Professor Byleth tilted her head. “You think I would make a worthy adversary?”

Felix shrugged. “I can’t say for sure until I test your strength myself, but it seems so. You were trained by Captain Jeralt after all, and you were a mercenary before a teacher. How else will I grow stronger if I don’t test myself against stronger opponents like yourself?”

Her expression remained blank. “Why are you so focused on becoming stronger?”

Felix thought for a moment. He couldn’t seem to put his desire for strength into words. “It is either kill or be killed in this world,” he finally said. He was acutely aware that he was echoing what he had said to Annette not so very long ago. “I learned to use a sword before I could even write my own name. If you can’t wield a weapon in Faerghus, you’re useless regardless of how strong a Crest you may possess. You must grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger.”

Professor Byleth made a couple of notes on the parchment in front of her. “Do you have any other ambitions?” she asked, quill poised to take more annotations.

He shook his head. “Nothing is more important to me than the pursuit of strength,” Felix said fiercely. 

She made another note on the parchment. “I see,” she said musingly. “Well, I’m happy to spar with you, but it will have to wait until later. I am meeting with two other students after you.”

“I look forward to it,” Felix said honestly. 

“Now, regarding your training plan,” Professor Byleth continued. “I’ve assessed your physical battle prowess and I have concluded that you’re already excelling in that area. Further training in lance or axe would likely be a waste of energy after all the time you’ve put into mastering your blade.”

Felix nodded approvingly and sipped his tea. He had no interest in using a lance. Dimitri, Ingrid, and Sylvain all used it with more precision than he possessed. It was also more useful on horseback, and he really had always preferred to keep his feet firmly on the ground during battle. 

“You could learn the bow,” Professor Byleth continued, “But I feel that that would be more hindrance than help as you’d need to retreat backwards in order to have enough space to shoot. Since you will primarily be in close-quarters combat, a bow seems rather pointless.”

This, too, made sense to Felix. Furthermore, a bow and quiver would hamper his speed with the added weight on his back.

“I’m going to teach everyone in the class the basics of hand-to-hand combat. It will be useful as a last resort during battle. For you, however,” Professor Byleth said neutrally as she checked the document once more. “I would like you to begin training using anima magic.” 

Felix choked on his tea. “Excuse me?”

“I would like you to begin training using anima magic,” she repeated clearly, as though he hadn’t heard the first time. “Unlike the bow, you would not need to carry any extra equipment and you will be able to use it in close quarters if needed, so it won’t require you to leave the frontlines.”

Although Felix could not disagree with the logic behind this decision, he still felt as though he had been hit in the gut with one of Ingrid’s lances. “Magic,” he said stupidly. “You want me to learn to cast spells?”

Professor Byleth nodded approvingly. “Indeed. If your sword were to break, you will have the option of using hand-to-hand combat or magic to take care of one or multiple attackers, as needed. You would also be able to react quickly to assisting an endangered ally if you were able to cast a spell from a short distance away while still being able to fend off your own enemies with your sword.”

“With all due respect Professor,” Felix began quickly, attempting to forestall this disaster of an idea before it gained any further traction. “I have no aptitude for magic. I have never studied the theory nor tried to cast a spell.”

“I have already thought about that,” Professor Byleth said with a half smile curling her lips. She glanced over her shoulder to an empty corner of the room and turned back looking rather pleased with herself. He had not seen her express this much emotion during one conversation since she had arrived at the Monastery. “I’d like you to work with Annette to learn the basics of anima magic. She’s the only mage in our class, unfortunately, so I’ll be relying on her to share her knowledge of the subject with you and perhaps Sylvain as well.”

If Felix thought this was a bad idea when Professor Byleth first suggested it, now he knew it was downright mad. It was especially dangerous if she was planning to have Annette spend time teaching Sylvain as well. He set his teacup down with an unnecessary amount of force. “Professor, I really don’t think I’m cut out for—”

She held up a hand to stop his tirade. “I have given my orders,” she said simply. “You will need to arrange time to study the subject with her.”

Felix sighed, resigned to his fate of being unable to avoid Annette and thereby any possibly of ever dispelling his friend’s incessant questions about their non-relationship. “Is Annette aware of this…arrangement?” he asked through gritted teeth.

There was no mistaking the smile on Professor Byleth’s face now. She almost looked like an evil goddess as her blue eyes flashed. “She is my next meeting. Thank you, Felix. That will be all for today.”

\---

The remainder of the month passed much too quickly for Felix’s liking. He continued to have chores with Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri on a regular basis which left him unable to avoid their questions. He had hoped the subject of Annette would begin to lose interest if he refused to rise to their baiting inquiries, but there was no hope of it now. Sylvain gleefully asked him at every opportunity if he had begun any study sessions with “his girl” yet. Felix refused to respond to this, though it didn’t do much good. Sylvain never had been deterred by something as simple as the silent treatment. 

Felix was avoiding Annette as much as possible prior to their mission. He still hadn’t accepted Professor Byleth’s decision for him to learn magic and was stubbornly averting any opportunity where he might have to broach the topic with Annette herself. For what it was worth, Annette seemed to be avoiding him as well; the only time she had voluntarily sought him out since the night she had sobbed in the knight’s hall was to return his handkerchief. It had smelled like fresh violets. He figured she must still be embarrassed about what had happened, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be sorry for it. It made avoiding her much easier for him too.

When the day of their first mission finally arrived, Felix was a ball of nerves. The thought of battle itself did not bother him overmuch, but it would be the first time he would be in close proximity to Annette outside of their regular classes. He tried to keep his face impassive as they gathered in the Red Canyon. He stood near Dimitri and Ingrid, keeping a sidelong glance on Sylvain who had sidled closer to Mercedes. _No doubt trying to cause trouble,_ Felix thought crossly as he heard both girls laughing at something Sylvain had said.

“All right,” Professor Byleth motioned the group to move in closer to her so as to not announce their presence in the Red Canyon yet. “For this mission, we’re going to try to move in from two sides. I’m going to have one group move directly forward with me, and the other will take the west side and swing around behind to meet back up with us in a pincer attack. Questions?

“Who will be going in which group?” Ashe asked quickly. He was holding his bow tightly and looked slightly ill. 

“The first group will be led by myself and Dimitri,” Professor Byleth said. “I want Dedue, Ashe and Mercedes to come with us.”

Felix suppressed a groan. He should have expected something like this.

“The second group,” Professor Byleth continued. “Will be led by Ingrid. Felix, Sylvain, and Annette, I want you three to accompany her on that side.”

“Understood,” Ingrid saluted. Sylvain’s eyes sparkled as he looked sidelong at Felix.

The Professor dug into her bag and pulled out a ring with three skeleton keys on it. “Felix, I want you to hold on to this. It’s possible the thieves have stowed some treasure in this canyon hideout. You have good speed over uneven terrain, so I think you will have the best opportunity to grab it if there is any.”

Felix took the keys and stowed them into his jacket pocket. 

“Are there any other questions?” Professor Byleth asked. Nobody said anything. “Remember that this is a real battle with real stakes. Our enemy will not hesitate to cut you down, so you must be ready to fight to the death. If you become injured, you must retreat as quickly as possible to this rendezvous point.” She looked over the assembled students once last time. “Very well. Blue Lions, move out!”

\---

The battle in the Red Canyon was bloody. The Professor had not been kidding when she said that the thieves nesting there would be merciless. Felix had been prepared for battle, and he did not fear the enemy. He had been training for this moment his whole life. He had never felt so alive as when he was one with his sword, cutting a path to victory through a multitude of enemies. Alongside Ingrid and Sylvain, Felix knew his flanks were covered; he trusted them with his life.

But Annette was different. When she achieved her first kill, she forced a smile. “See? I’m a great fighter!” she said cheerfully to nobody in particular. Her hands were quivering as she spoke, and Felix could see that she wasn’t looking at the corpse. It sounded like Annette was trying to convince herself that she could keep going.

Her second kill was worse. “I can do it,” she said to herself in a low voice. Felix barely heard Annette as he fended off another thief that was sprinting toward her. He parried a thrust from the thief so that Ingrid could finish the job from behind. Annette hadn’t noticed the danger. She didn’t seem to be able to see that corpse either.

Felix, for his part, thought the dead man looked too much like Glenn. It made his stomach twist into a knot.

By the time she killed a third man, Annette didn’t seem capable to speech at all. She kept staring at her hands as if she were disgusted by them. “Annette,” Ingrid called brusquely to her. She fell back from the front line to Annette’s side, leaving Felix and Sylvain to pick up her slack. “You should retreat. It’s okay if this is too much for you. You don’t have to force yourself.”

Annette didn’t seem to hear her. She stumbled forward without really seeing Ingrid. 

“Annette,” Ingrid said again. Her tone was more commanding this time. “There is no shame in retreating. No one will think any less of you for it.”

“That’s not true,” Annette said softly. Her eyes had a faraway look to them. She kept staring at the corpses that Felix and Sylvain had made. “He will be disappointed in me. How could he love me if I can’t even finish the job I started?”

The three friends looked at each other meaningfully. Annette didn’t seem to have realized what she had said. “Does she mean…you?” Sylvain asked in a low voice to Felix. Ingrid raised her eyebrows at him.

“I don’t think so,” Felix said carefully, scanning the area in case there were other enemies nearby. He had been mulling over their encounter in the knight’s hall for days now, and he had a pretty solid suspicion of what was really bothering Annette. He was quite certain it wasn’t him. “We can’t go on like this. She’ll slow us down and become a liability.”

“I concur,” Ingrid said. She looked over the battlefield as well. “One of us needs to take her back. I’ll bring her to the rendezvous point and wait with her. It looks like this battle won’t take much longer anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Felix argued. “You can’t go. The Professor left you as the leader of our group. You need to continue with giving orders.”

“Let Felix take her back,” Sylvain said reasonably. He made it sound like the most obvious solution. “We know she trusts him. She’s said as much to you before, Ingrid.”

“That’s true. Very well,” she barked at Felix, looking uncomfortable with the solution. “You have your orders. Make sure you both make it to the rendezvous point safely. We’ll rejoin you soon.”

“Understood,” Felix saluted without further argument. A battlefield was no place for long conversations. He strode over to Annette and shook her gently by the shoulders. It didn’t seem like she had been listening to them at all. “Annette, we need to go.”

“I can’t,” she said desperately. She looked terrified, and Felix wondered if she would be permanently scarred by this experience. Some people simply weren’t cut out for fighting. “He’ll be so disappointed in me. Just like always.”

Felix didn’t have time to wonder further about her anxieties. He filed this comment away for further analysis after the battle was over. “Come on,” he said again, taking her forcefully by the hand. Thankfully, despite her verbal denials, she followed him without resistance. He kept a firm grip on her hand, not trusting her to keep walking on her own right now.

He led her away swiftly, keeping his eyes open in case some bandit had managed to escape the slaughter and double back behind them. Luck seemed to be on his side this time. The plateau was deserted except for the corpses. He tried not to stare at them. He didn’t want to see Glenn in their mutilated faces again. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he lost his cool while trying to retreat to safety with Annette.

The rendezvous point was far enough away from the battlefield that they could no longer hear the sounds of fighting. Felix led Annette to a large rock and helped her comfortably sit on top of it. They were both covered in blood. Annette looked like she was somewhere very distant from the Red Canyon. Felix felt a small pang of concern to see the lost look on her face and tried to suppress it. He wondered if that’s how he had looked when he had heard about Glenn’s death. He was sure he looked just like that when he had first seen Glenn’s corpse. 

“Here, drink this,” Felix said quietly. He pushed a flask of water into her trembling hands and gently forced her fingers to close over it. “Everything will fine, Annette.”

Annette turned her face toward him at the sound of her name. Now that they were away from the battle, she seemed to be coming to her senses. “Felix?” she asked in a dazed voice, as if she wasn’t sure it was really him. “Where are we?”

“We’re back at the rendezvous point,” he said patiently. He knelt in front of her again to get a better look at her face. He mentally made a note to not make a habit of kneeling like this when Sylvain was around. “Drink that water. You’ll feel better.”

Annette nodded slowly and lifted the flask to her lips. She looked very pale, but at least her eyes were no longer unfocused. “Thank you,” she said weakly. Her hands were still trembling. “I’m sorry that you had to retreat with me. I’m such a failure.”

He snorted. “You have no need to apologize. As Ingrid said, there is no shame in retreating.”

Annette stared down at her feet. 

“You’re not a failure either,” Felix continued relentlessly. “Anyone who believes that of you is sadly misinformed.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Annette said softly. “You are far too kind to me. This is the second time you’ve had to comfort me like this. I’m sorry.”

“For the last time, stop apologizing,” he said more crossly than he had intended. He stood up and moved closer to the edge of the battlefield. “It looks like the battle is over now. I think the others are heading back this way.”

He heard Annette draw in a deep breath and slide off the rock. She stoppered the water flask and handed it back to him. “Thank you, Felix,” she said again. Her voice was small, as if she was afraid of how he would reply. “Please…let’s talk once we’re back at the Monastery. If you don’t mind.”

Felix stared at her for a long moment. “Of course not,” he said honestly.

He realized, not for the first time, that he was doing a very bad job lately at keeping his feelings at bay.


	5. Not Fine

It was several days after the battle in the Red Canyon that Annette began to really feel like herself again. When she first returned to the Monastery, her memories were foggy, and she couldn’t quite recall what had happened. The only thing that had stuck with her was Felix agreeing to speak with her after they got back. His eyes had been solemn but his presence by her side had given her the strength to get back on her own two feet. She was grateful for that. He had never abandoned her when she was in need.

Upon their return, Professor Byleth had ordered Annette to her room to get some rest. She had kindly taken the initiative to give her next week’s chores to other students until Annette was in better shape. Mercedes stayed closed to Annette during those days, bringing her food from the dining hall and talking quietly with her in the privacy of her dormitory room. The Professor had excused her from attending classes until she had regained her full composure, so Mercedes went over the lessons each day with her so that she wouldn’t fall behind.

“I’m so stupid Mercie,” Annette moaned one evening. She pushed her notebook aside. “Why did I ever think I could do this? It was a stupid idea.”

Mercedes looked up from her own book and set her quill aside gently. “Don’t say such things,” she sounded aghast as the thought. “Annie, you’re the smartest person I know. Why are you losing faith in yourself?”

“I couldn’t even finish one battle through to the end,” Annette muttered morosely. “I’m completely and utterly hopeless.”

“Rubbish,” Mercedes said firmly. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Annie. It was hard for all of us. You know that Ashe was much the same as you, right? But we couldn’t prepare a proper retreat route for him, so he had no choice but to stay in the back line and try not to lose his cool any more than he already had.”

Although Mercedes meant her words to provide a comfort, Annette felt more miserable. “Still Mercie,” she moaned again, “Ashe managed to stay through the whole thing. It took me two full days to remember how I killed those men. I’m still not sure I’m okay with those memories.”

Mercedes sighed deeply. “Annie, it’s okay for you to not be okay,” she said gently, reaching across the table and taking Annette’s hands in her own. “You’re not stupid nor weak for how your first battle affected you.”

“Father would never believe that,” Annette said quietly. “He would be so disappointed in me. Retreating like a coward.”

“I don’t believe that one bit,” Mercedes said loftily and squeezing her friend’s hands tighter. “He would be a true fool to believe you were anything other than brave. Even the greatest knights have fears, Annie. Even great knights need to retreat sometimes. It’s not a sign of weakness.”

“He’s here now, at the Monastery,” Annette said moodily. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “I saw him from my window the other day, by the fishing pond.”

“So, you have your chance now,” Mercedes said matter-of-factly as if this tidbit of information ought not to bother Annette in the slightest. “I’m sure he will listen to you. Don’t lose hope, no matter how long it takes.”

Annette grumbled something unintelligible and fell backwards onto her bed. She stared up at the ceiling as if wishing the Goddess herself might appear and give her a pep talk too. “I think I’ll be okay to take care of the greenhouse tomorrow,” she finally said. “So, you don’t have to take my chores anymore Mercie.”

“Only if you’re sure,” her friend replied calmly. Her quill was scratching across her parchment again. “I’m happy to help if you need me to.”

Annette shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I can’t hide in here forever.”

Professor Byleth had kindly paid a visit to her earlier in the day to check up on her and see how she was faring. Although the Professor seemed very robotic at times, she was not unkind or completely unfeeling. She told Annette she understood how she felt and didn’t blame her for retreating. “It was smart of Ingrid to order you to retreat,” Professor Byleth had said. “You would have been in more danger if you had continued on. If you would like to discuss this further, you may come see me any time. We can work through your feelings and work on ways to help you fare better in the future.” It had made Annette realize that she had to face the world again soon. Nothing would change if she continued to wallow in self-pity.

Mercedes closed her notebook and stowed it back in her bag. “Well, you know where to find me if you need me for anything,” she said. “Don’t worry about your father either. I’m certain he will come around.”

Annette hoped she was right. It had already been four years and he hadn’t come around yet.

\---

The following morning marked Annette’s first day back in class since their mission to the Red Canyon. She felt like there was a great spotlight on her as she entered the classroom. Annette tried not to catch anyone’s eye as she passed and slid into her usual seat. Mercedes hadn’t arrived yet, so she busied herself with unpacking her bookbag and pretending that nobody was staring at her. 

“Hey, Annette. How are you doing?” Ingrid asked gently. She stood with her own bookbag slung over her shoulder and concern knitting her brows. 

“Oh, hi,” Annette said awkwardly. She felt her cheeks go pink. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ingrid said, green eyes still staring at her intently. She shifted the bag on her shoulder uncomfortably. “We’ve been worried for you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no,” she responded quickly. She tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m really fine, I promise. You won’t have to worry about me in the future. I’ll do better next time.”

Ingrid looked a bit surprised at this, but she didn’t question it. “Well, like I said, I’m here to help if you need anything. I know you have Mercedes too, but please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s something I can do for you.”

Annette nodded and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Mercedes was just arriving with Dedue. _Finally,_ she thought anxiously. _I can’t bear to sit here alone anymore._ She still felt like she was being watched, so she glanced around quickly once more. 

Sure enough, she caught Felix staring right at her. He didn’t look away when she caught his gaze.

 _He probably heard everything we said,_ she thought, giving him a faint smile. He raised his eyebrows at her as if to say he didn’t believe she was doing as well as she claimed. Leave it to Felix to see right through her lie. He was as good as Mercedes at detecting them.

She was spared having to hold his gaze any longer as Professor Byleth arrived in the room and called the class to order. Mercedes smiled warmly at Annette as she sat down and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The gesture made her feel a bit better and the smile she offered to Mercedes in return was more genuine than all the others she’d tried to give that morning.

As class went on, Annette found herself feeling better as she settled back into her normal daily routine. She listened closely to the lecture, hoping to glean some nugget of information that might help her keep her head in their next mission. During their free study period, she threw herself into studying up on battle formations and the uses of battalions. She didn’t think she would be a very good leader, but Professor Byleth had already hinted that she would be picking out certain members of the class to begin learning how to lead them into battle. Annette figured it would be better for her to be prepared for anything the Professor might throw at her.

Professor Byleth finished her lecture a bit earlier than planned, so she dismissed the class early for the afternoon. Annette scrambled to throw her books back into her bag. “I’m going to go get a head start on the greenhouse,” she said to Mercedes. “I’ll meet you later for dinner, okay?”

“All right, Annie,” Mercedes said with another of her warm smiles. “Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

“I won’t,” Annette promised. “I’ll see you later!”

She raced out of the classroom before anyone could stop her for a conversation. Annette hoped that if she avoided everyone for long enough, they would lose interest in asking her if she was doing okay. It was exhausting to answer the same question to each person who asked it when she already knew she would be lying, even if just a little. 

Annette decided to make a quick stop in her dorm to drop off her bookbag before heading to the greenhouse. It was too heavy to lug around all evening, and she didn’t need it anyway. She dug through her drawers until she found her gardening gloves, pulled them on, and then raced back out. Thankfully, the greenhouse was empty when she arrived, a silent oasis of plant life. Breathing a sigh of relief, Annette made her way into the shed to retrieve the corn broom and began to sweep away the debris from the floor.

Working had always helped to clear her mind of worry, so it wasn’t long before she felt more at ease in her own skin again. Annette recalled how she used to help take care of the garden back home with her mother. It had been one of the few things that still truly made her mother smile after the Tragedy of Duscur. It had always made Annette happy to see her mother smiling. Sometimes, her mother would begin to sing too. “Plants are like people,” she used to say in her melodious voice. “They need to know that they are loved to grow strong. A good gardener does more than simply water them or pour fertilizer; the best gardener will use their voice to encourage the plants to grow and flower bountifully.”

Annette had taken this advice to heart. She had always loved her mother’s voice, so she too would sing as she tended the plants at home. It had become a habit after that. It helped her focus when she worked or when she studied. It helped calm her nerves when she was upset. Music was important to her mother, and so it was also important to Annette.

Filling her watering can, she carefully went through each row and gave the plants a good, long drink. “Today's dinner is steak and then a cake that's yummy yum,” she sang cheerfully as she worked. She forced her mind not to focus on her father or her own insecurities. “Now it's time to fill my tummy tummy tum!” 

She bent down to peer at the broad leaves of the Monastery’s most exotic plants, imported from as far away as Brigid, and drank in the scent of the huge pink flowers. Her mother would have loved to see these flowers and would probably have even used them as inspiration for her next composition. Annette wondered if it would ever be possible to bring such a special plant home to her mother, to share with her just a small part of the wide world that she’d been sequestered away from for so many years. 

“Oh, this mountain of sweets, and treats that I long to eats...” Annette continued, her voice rising sweetly above the exotic flowers, and forgetting for a moment that she was in a public greenhouse and not House Dominic’s private garden. She twirled gracefully as she rounded a corner, the tips of her toes barely brushing the stone floor beneath her. “Oh, stacks of steaks and cakes and…!”

“I hope I’m not interrupting…” a voice drawled loudly.

“…crumbs and yums...ah!” Annette yelped and stumbled backward as she landed, wobbling slightly as she turned to face the intruder. She held the watering can loosely in one hand so that it dripped steadily onto the floor. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Felix was staring at her with undisguised interest on his face. “I came to speak with you, obviously.”

Annette stared at him in horror. “You weren’t listening to me, were you?” she asked, a tone of fear creeping into her voice. She peered at him through her gloved fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her face going pink.

He shrugged casually. “Well…I heard enough to know that you’re hungry.”

She gasped as a sinking feeling of dread filled her belly. Her eyes were scarcely visible above the tips of her fingers. “You…didn’t see the dance, did you?” she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. 

“You have good footwork,” Felix affirmed with raised eyebrows. Annette stared at him in shocked silence. He shifted uncomfortably and held out a hand. “Here, let me finish. You should go get something to eat. I don’t want Mercedes to flay me alive for letting you faint from hunger.”

Annette continued to stare at him. Felix held her gaze unflinchingly. 

“You’re evil, Felix!” she burst out angrily. She dropped her hands from covering her face now that she was more confident it was no longer pink. 

“And _you’re_ shouting,” he pointed out seriously. “I don’t really see how—”

Annette took a few steps forward and stood on her tiptoes to look him in the eyes. “You can’t just spy on people while they're singing without even saying anything! It's not right!” she insisted, stamping her foot on the ground for emphasis. “Oh, this is just the _worst!_ ”

He didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. “I did call out that I was coming in,” Felix said coolly, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s not my fault you were singing too loudly to hear it.”

Annette’s eyes widened at the implications of this statement. He had been able to hear her _through_ the door. He had actually tried to let her know he was coming in, effectively giving her a chance to stop before she embarrassed herself. And, in her usual fashion, she was so wrapped up in her own head that she hadn’t noticed him at all until it was too late. Suddenly realizing that she was still standing very close to him, Annette took several large steps back and held her watering can in front of her as a makeshift shield.

“Well, you weren’t loud enough!” she sputtered. “This is so embarrassing. Why did it have to be _you_ to come in here and hear me singing a silly food song I made up?”

Felix opened his mouth to respond, but Annette continued to ramble on without noticing. 

“I should have been singing about bears! Or swamp beasties!” she went on shrilly. She realized how ridiculous this sounded the moment the words left her mouth, but it was too late to backtrack. Annette decided that doubling down on it was the only way forward. “Maybe it would have scared you enough to stop you from coming in at all!”

“I didn't realize there were songs about bears and swamp beasties,” Felix cut across her tirade before it could continue. “That food song seemed to be close to your heart, though. Your stomach isn't far from your heart after all.” He held out his hand again for the watering can. “Let me finish.”

Annette couldn’t believe her ears. She felt her face going pink again. “I take it back,” she hissed. “This situation isn’t the worst. _You’re_ the worst!”

Throwing the watering can at him so hard that Felix had to almost wasn’t able to dodge it in time, Annette fled the room, leaving him standing alone and extremely confused. 

\---

“Would you like more tea?” Mercedes asked kindly to Annette.

“No, thanks,” she mumbled into the pillow.

Contrary to Felix’s advice, Annette had not gone to the dining hall after bolting out of the greenhouse. No one had ever heard her singing any of her made-up songs (except now for Mercedes, since Annette had had to explain the situation and Mercedes had insisted on her own private performance) and the absolute last person she would have willingly shared them with was Felix. Seeking the comfort of her best friend, she had gone to the only logical place she could think of at the time: Mercedes’ room. 

In hindsight, this probably wasn’t the best hideout. Mercedes’ room really wasn’t very far from the greenhouse. In fact, Annette could see it from her best friend’s window. She had knelt on Mercedes’ bed and squinted over the sill so that she could flag Mercedes down as soon as she happened to walk by. Unfortunately, this plan also afforded her a chance to watch Felix leave the greenhouse about half an hour later, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. She had shrunk down lower so that he wouldn’t notice her face in the window, but he hadn’t looked over at all. In fact, he looked suspiciously like he was whistling as he walked away. 

Luckily, Mercedes had stopped by her room before dinner that evening and, upon hearing Annette’s sad tale, she had agreed to bring a tray of food back for them to share. Annette was relieved to have such a good friend in her life. She absolutely could not have borne to be in the same room as Felix. It wasn’t bad enough that _he_ knew her secret pastime. What if he had told the others too?

Annette moaned into Mercedes’ pillow at the thought. “My life is over.”

“I think you’re overreacting, Annie,” Mercedes said soothingly. She was pouring two cups of tea despite Annette’s reply. “I’m sure he loved your songs. How could anyone not love them? They’re so cute!”

Annette sat upright and hugged the pillow to her chest. “Mercie,” she said gravely. “Do you honestly think that Felix likes _cute_ things? He probably thinks I’m such a weirdo. In fact, I’m absolutely certain he thinks that!”

“I can’t see why he wouldn’t like cute things,” Mercedes said merrily. She dropped a generous spoonful of sugar into Annette’s teacup. “Besides, he definitely likes you. So why wouldn’t he like your songs?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Annette asked in disbelief. “Felix does _not_ like me. He’s helped me a few times because he’s too honourable to let me suffer even when I deserve it. It has nothing to do with liking me.”

“You seem like good friends to me,” Mercedes replied in an amused tone. She pushed the tea across the table toward Annette. “I don’t think he would stop to help you if he didn’t like you.”

“This past week has been terrible,” Annette sighed. She took a long sip from the tea. Rose Petal Blend had always been one of her favourites, but it wasn’t helping her frazzled nerves tonight. “First, I fail on our mission. Then, I saw Father for the first time in years and was too cowardly to go confront him. And now,” she finished theatrically as she flopped backwards onto the bed, “Felix walked in on me while I was singing a stupid song.”

Mercedes simply took a sip of her own tea and smiled. “You know Annie, I’m sure if you just asked him nicely to not say anything to anyone, he would agree.”

Annette mulled over this for a long moment. “Maybe,” she agreed slowly. “I’ll just…corner him after class tomorrow and ask him to forget everything and never tell another soul about what he witnessed.”

“See, I’m sure it will all work out,” Mercedes said cheerfully. She pushed a tray of sweets toward Annette. “Take a cookie. I baked them especially for you.”

“But I threw that watering can at him,” Annette muttered, ignoring the proffered cookie and throwing an arm over her eyes. “He probably hates me even more than he did before!”

“I thought we already discussed that he very much does not hate you,” Mercedes said in confusion. She made a strangled sound that Annette suspected was a stifled giggle. “Throwing the watering can was probably not necessary, but I don’t believe Felix could possibly hate you just for that.”

“I think you’re underestimating his powers of hate,” Annette said dramatically. 

“I think you’re overestimating his powers of hate. Just talk to him,” Mercedes encouraged gently. “He might be a bit prickly at times, but he’s always nice to you.”

Annette simply sighed morosely as she stared into her teacup. “Okay,” she agreed in a resigned tone. “I’ll try it.”

\---

Confronting Felix proved to be much easier said than done. 

The first problem was that, despite her resolution from the evening before, Annette couldn’t bring herself to arrive in class alone. Instead, she showed up at Mercedes’ room two hours before class was scheduled to begin so that she could ensure they went in together. When they did arrive, Felix was not there yet. Annette thought this was a good sign because she really wasn’t willing to talk to him in front of Ingrid or Sylvain, both of whom sat near him. If he hadn’t yet taken an opportunity to tell his friends about her strange habits, Annette didn’t want to give them a chance to overhear the conversation when she cornered Felix about it.

The second problem was that Felix was the first person to depart class at the end of the lesson. This was unusual because he typically stuck around to check the chore schedule or argue some finer points of the lesson with Professor Byleth. Annette tried not to worry about what this change in behaviour might signify, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was still upset about the watering can.

Resolving to corner him after dinner instead, Annette made sure to show up at the dining hall for the first time in over a week. To her dismay, in the three hours that she sat there playing with her food, Felix never showed up. 

“He definitely hates me,” Annette groaned to Mercedes. “He’s avoiding me for sure.”

“Maybe he’s just busy,” Mercedes said logically. She didn’t seem to be nearly as concerned about the situation as Annette. “He usually trains in the evenings. I bet that’s where is he right now.”

“How long can one person train for in a single night?” Annette complained sullenly. “Surely he has to come and eat eventually?”

“Just be patient,” Mercedes counselled sagely. She didn’t look up from the crossword she was working on. “Everything will work out in due course as the Goddess wills.”

“Forget it,” Annette muttered. She was sick of sitting in one place with nothing to show for it. “I think I’ll just go for a walk and then head to bed. This is pointless.”

“Do you want any company?” Mercedes offered, glancing up at her friend. “I don’t mind joining you.”

Annette shook her head. “Thanks, Mercie, but I think I’d just like to get some fresh air and gather my thoughts. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course,” her friend smiled benevolently. “Good night, Annie.”

The air outside was getting warmer now that spring was approaching the start of summer. Annette walked slowly down toward the fishing pond and stared out over the still water. She wondered if her father still enjoyed fishing. He had never considered himself a particularly skilled fisherman, but he used to say it brought him a great sense of peace to sit at the water’s edge and wait for a fish to take the bait. She sighed heavily at the memory of sitting with her father on his days off when he would take her down the stream and fish while she played in the rushes.

She began to walk slowly around the pond and past the quiet marketplace. None of the shops were open at this time of night. It was eerily quiet without a crowd of people to fill it with a jumble of languages and laughter, and it seemed much smaller when it was empty. Annette thought it felt a little bit like how home was after her father had abandoned them. Small, claustrophobic, and empty. It was silent except for the sound of her mother’s weeping. _That’s why I’m here,_ Annette thought sadly. _I’m on a pointless quest to bring back a father who abandoned us and left my mother to live in sorrow. What a stupid idea this was!_

She rounded the corner and walked past the stables. The horses were snoozing contentedly in their stalls. Annette thought vaguely that it must be nice to be a horse. They were well taken care of at Garreg Mach and didn’t want for anything. Horses didn’t need to worry about their fathers abandoning them or leaving their mothers to waste away in despair. People took care of them and made sure they were always comfortable. Horses were valuable, even more so than a family it seemed.

Annette heard a small _meow_ and felt something soft curl between her feet. Luna, the stray cat she had found in the knight’s hall, was wending her way between Annette’s legs. She blinked her green eyes slowly and brushed her head against Annette’s right foot. She crouched down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “You’re a good girl,” she said softly. “Thanks, Luna.”

The cat meowed again and licked her paw. Annette giggled as she patted the cat cheerfully on her head. “Felix was right,” she said quietly as she reached down to rub the cat’s belly. “It was important to give you a name.”

The sound of heavy footsteps brought Annette out of her reverie. She remained crouched on the ground playing with the little cat. A man stepped around the corner from the direction of the reception hall into the moonlight. Annette’s heart stopped in her chest. 

_Father,_ she realized instinctively. 

He wasn’t difficult to recognize, even after all these years apart. He stood as tall as she remembered. If his hair was greyer now than its original reddish-orange colour, it was only because he had aged. His face was more heavily lined than Annette recalled, but he still wore the same dour expression that he had often worn when she was still a child. He wore the same grey armour he had owned all his life, but now it was without the symbol of the Faerghus royal family. She knew without needing a second look that she had finally found him. 

Her legs felt weak as she stood. “Father,” she said with awe. “Father, it’s me, Annette!”

To her dismay, her father didn’t spare her even a single glance. He turned without speaking and began to walk away briskly, his back stiff and tall. 

“No,” Annette whispered. Her feet began to move after him before she even realized what she was doing. “No, you can’t go. I won’t let you!”

Annette hurried after him. “Father, please wait!” she cried, catching his sleeve as she caught up to him. “Please, just talk to me. Just _look_ at me.”

He stopped in his tracks outside the knight’s hall but he didn’t turn around.

“Father,” Annette begged, her voice breaking. “Please…”

He was silent. 

“Father, I know it’s you,” Annette cried desperately. “Please, speak to me. Come back home with me. Mother is waiting. _I’m_ waiting.” 

He stood straight as a rod. “I have no right to return to you or your mother,” he said finally, his voice low and final. He pulled his arm out of her slack grip with ease and continued on his way toward the graveyard and out of sight.

Annette was devastated. She had finally found him, finally _spoken_ to him, and he had flatly refused her pleas. Stumbling forward, arm outstretched at his retreating back, Annette felt her heart break again into millions of tiny pieces. All of her hopes were dashed, all of her hard work had been for nothing after all. He was never coming back. She fell to her knees in despair, hardly noticing that the cat had followed her and was trying to nuzzle in her hand. 

The door to the knight’s hall opened on her right, letting out a sliver of warm light. She didn’t turn to look. It didn’t matter who was there. It wasn’t her father. 

Footsteps came closer and a dark form crouched down beside her. 

“Annette?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have been enjoying this story so far! I am so happy to see all the comments and kudos, and I hope you all continue to enjoy it. We have a long road ahead of us :) I'm having a lot of fun with this project and exploring Annette and Felix's personalities and relationships with each other and those around them. 
> 
> Love, Kami


	6. Still Waiting for You

Felix hadn’t seen what had transpired outside the knight’s hall, but when he had heard the shouting, he had recognized Annette’s voice immediately. Sheathing his sword and setting it against a wall, he went to the door and threw it open. Whatever he had thought he might find outside, Felix certainly hadn’t expected to find Annette on her knees and staring ahead as if the last light of the world had just been quenched. He knew that this wasn’t normal behaviour for her; even when she was afraid or anxious, Annette always strove to put on a cheerful face. Felix didn’t always believe her when she claimed she was fine, but it wasn’t his place to stop her from trying to put on a brave show for others. 

Crouching beside her and looking in her face, he realized something was very wrong. “Annette?” he asked.

“Felix?” Annette replied in a dazed voice. She turned her head toward his voice, but her eyes looked vacant, as though she couldn’t quite see his features. “Please, please, you must help me. He’s just gone that way. Please, I must go to him!”

Felix didn’t know how to respond to this, but it seemed clear to him that Annette was in no fit state to be chasing after anyone at all. The cat she had befriended sat beside her meowing incessantly, though Annette didn’t seem to notice that either. 

“Of course I’ll help you,” he said. “Can you stand, Annette?”

She shook her head slowly, turning her gaze back down the stone laneway. Felix followed her gaze, but there was no one to be seen. 

“It’s all right,” Felix assured her. He took her hands and pulled her up from the ground. Annette’s legs were unsteady, and she was still staring in the direction of the graveyard, apparently having forgotten he was there. Felix wound his arm around her waist and held her firmly under the crook of his arm so that he could lead her slowly into the knight’s hall. Thankfully, it was late enough in the evening that the other occupants had already left. He didn’t relish the idea of bringing her into a room full of gawking onlookers. 

Felix led her to the nearest couch and slowly helped her settle into the cushions. The cat jumped up beside Annette and meowed loudly for her attention. She absently moved her hand to scratch Luna’s head, though she didn’t turn to look at her. 

“Annette, what happened?” Felix demanded in as gentle a voice as he could muster, which was not particularly gentle at all. He felt an odd sense of anger building in his chest at whoever had hurt her so much. He tried to push the feelings away, fully aware that they were becoming dangerous to him, and found it more difficult than it rightfully should have been. 

She sniffed and shook her head. “He’s gone again,” Annette replied in the most despairing voice Felix had ever heard her use. It was worse than when they were in the Red Canyon. 

“Who’s gone again?” he prodded doggedly. “I can’t help bring you to him if I don’t know who to find.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Annette dropped her face and began to cry in earnest now. Unsure of what to say next and afraid that he might make her more upset, Felix rummaged in his pocket for the same handkerchief he had lent her before. “Here,” he said awkwardly. He wasn’t used to taking care of crying women. This was more Sylvain’s area of expertise, at least when he wasn’t the cause of the crying. “Take this, Annette.”

To his relief she accepted the handkerchief without complaint and dabbed her eyes. 

It took several minutes for Annette to calm down enough to speak coherently. Felix waited patiently for her to catch her breath and brought her a cup of cool water from the sideboard. The cat had curled up on Annette’s lap and lay there contentedly while the mage-girl absently stroked her back. Felix watched her closely through narrowed eyes in case she showed signs of breaking down again. _If that happens,_ he thought, _it would be better to find Mercedes and bring her straight here. She would certainly know how to help Annette._

After what felt like an eternity, Annette set her water back on the table and took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “This is the second time I’ve ruined your handkerchief now.”

“What is it with you and apologizing for everything?” he asked crossly before remembering that he should be comforting Annette rather than criticizing her. “Don’t worry about the handkerchief. What happened to you?”

Annette kept her eyes downcast as if she was ashamed to admit anything to him. Her fingers tightened over the Crest of Fraldarius.

“I won’t force you to say anything if you don’t want to,” Felix told her, his eyes flashing brightly in the firelight. “But I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”

She nodded her head. “Thank you,” she whispered, staring determinedly at the handkerchief in her hands. “Do you remember the last time you asked me what was wrong?”

Felix nodded even though she wasn’t look at him. “I do,” he said. “You said you weren’t ready to talk about it.”

“That’s right,” she agreed quietly. Annette raised the handkerchief to her eyes again and dabbed away new tears. “And you remember after the Red Canyon, I asked you if we could talk when we got back to the Monastery?”

“I remember,” he affirmed again. 

Annette gulped down a hiccup. “We haven’t had a chance to do that because…well, we haven’t had a chance yet,” she said awkwardly. Felix didn’t reply; he knew she had been avoiding him ever since they had returned from the Red Canyon, but he didn’t think it was the right time to call her out on it. “Well…if you don’t mind listening, I’ll tell you what has been bothering me all this time.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. He could still feel anger simmering in his chest as Annette continued to wipe away new tears. Felix tried again to push the feelings away in the box he had locked them in long ago, although it was only partially successful. The anger was proving difficult to set aside despite not having any context for it. 

“I’ve only told Mercie about this,” she began, her voice no higher than a whisper. “So…”

“I won’t say a word to anyone,” he promised. He had a feeling he knew where this story was going. Felix was neither blind nor deaf; he had been putting the pieces together since the first time she cried in this hall with him. Besides, Garreg Mach had very good records of noble houses and knights. It hadn’t been hard to find some information about the Dominic family while he happened to be doing research for one of their recent assignments.

Taking a deep breath, Annette launched into her tale without any preamble. 

“My father was a great knight who served the royal family,” she said in a low voice filled with bitterness. Felix could not help but sympathize with her about this; he, too, still maintained a bitterness about his own family’s ties to knighthood in service of the Blaiddyd family. “My family not as high ranking as the Fraldarius family, but my father was very well respected as a warrior.”

This fact was not lost on Felix, but he knew that many knights came from lower ranked families in order to make a name for themselves. Over time, it could result in more honours bestowed on their families, improving their social rank. It was especially true if the knight’s family possessed a Crest, which he knew that the Dominic family did. Although he had lived by the sword since he was a boy, his father had never allowed his other lessons to fall behind. He had never met anyone from the Dominic family before arriving at Garreg Mach, but he knew their name along with every other noble family in Kingdom.

“My father was formerly the Baron Gustave Dominic,” Annette continued sorrowfully, staring blankly into the fire. She hadn’t so much as looked at him yet. “After the Tragedy of Duscur, he renounced his title and abandoned my mother and I. My uncle inherited my father’s title and lands, and he inherited us too. We had nowhere else to go.”

Felix felt the anger in his chest bubbling more fiercely now. Listening to Annette’s story, he was reminded again of how the virtues of knighthood were truly a farce. If knights were supposed to be so noble, how could they abandon their families to throw their lives away in their service to another? They always left their own families to suffer in favour of serving one not their own. Glenn had done the same thing, as had his own father. He could understand Annette’s pain better than she probably realized.

“My mother fell into despair. I was still so young, and I didn’t know how to help her. She loved my father with all her heart, and it killed her inside when he left us without a word,” Annette went on steadily. Now that she had begun to talk, she didn’t seem able to stop the words from coming. “I wanted to help her so much. So, I thought that the only way I could was if I found my father and brought him back home to her.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “So, you decided to come here to find him,” he murmured.

Annette nodded and clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hands again. “That’s right. My father disappeared for a time, but eventually we heard a rumor of a knight working for the Church of Seiros that matched his description. My uncle was able to confirm it was indeed my father, although he was going by an assumed name, Gilbert. However, this left us at an impasse. My uncle did not believe there was any hope of convincing him to return to us, even if it left my mother to wallow in despair for the rest of her days.”

Entranced by her voice, Felix didn’t realize he had been staring at her. Annette drew in a ragged breath and finally raised her face. Her bright blue eyes were full of pain and fat tears still slid silently down her cheeks. Felix felt his heart clench in his chest.

“I begged my uncle to let me attend Garreg Mach,” Annette resumed after a moment of silence. “I was sure if I was able to enroll here, I would be able to find my father and convince him to return home. But my uncle couldn’t possibly have afforded to send me here. My only hope was to earn a recommendation from the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad.”

“Obviously you succeeded,” Felix said quietly as he steepled his fingers together in thought. His suspicions had been close to the truth of the matter, but it didn’t bring him any real sense of satisfaction. 

“Yes,” Annette said. She was no longer crying but her eyes were full of sadness. “I worked harder than anyone else in order to attend the Officer’s Academy. That night when you found me outside this hall, I had been searching for him, hoping he was here somewhere. It’s called the knight’s hall, so naturally I thought he might be in here. It was foolish,” she added harshly. “I didn’t even know if he was in Garreg Mach at the time, so I had no reason to expect him to be here. But it still crushed me inside when I saw it was empty.”

Felix sat back on his couch and folded his arms across his chest. “Knights are all fools,” he spat in disgust. “They leave their own families to throw their lives away for a so-called greater good.”

Annette tilted her head. “So, you understand this kind of pain too,” she said miserably. 

“Of course,” Felix replied acidly. “My brother died in the Tragedy of Duscur. He was a fool of a knight who threw his life away. Worst of all, my father _praised_ his death. He said it was a ‘glorious service’ to the king that Glenn died. It’s worse than foolish,” he added savagely, “Since the king died there too.”

“I’m sorry,” Annette said sincerely. “I didn’t realize that you also lost family there. I shouldn’t have brought this up.” 

Felix shook his head vigorously. “I told you I would listen,” he reminded Annette. “I never renege on my promises.”

“Still,” Annette murmured. “It was inconsiderate of me. I’m sorry.”

“There you go again apologizing for something you have no business apologizing for,” Felix said a little more severely than he had intended. He changed the subject back to Annette’s tale. “I take it you found your father tonight, then.”

Annette sighed deeply. “Yes, I did. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been waiting for you all evening and—I mean, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head, and I happened to run into him as he passed by here. I tried to talk to him, but he just told me he had no right to return home and walked away.”

_She was waiting for me?_ Felix wondered with surprise. He thought she had still been trying to avoid him, so he had been trying to give her some space to cool off. “What a cruel bastard,” he cursed instead, trying not to lose focus on the matter at hand. 

“He’s my father,” she said morosely. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. “Cruel or not, I just want him to come home so we can be a family again.”

Felix thought that Annette was much too good of a person to deserve such a despicable person like Gilbert for a father. He simply couldn’t understand why she would ever want to let a piece of scum like him back into her life. “So, what you were saying at the Red Canyon,” Felix began slowly and looking her directly in the eye, “About being a coward and a failure…you were worried that if your father heard about that, he would refuse to return home with you?”

Annette chewed on her lower lip. She clutched Felix’s handkerchief as though it would give her strength. “Yes.”

“What bullshit,” Felix snapped, finally losing his temper and springing to his feet. “You can’t honestly believe that after everything you just told me that you truly believed that any show of bravery or cowardice on your part would have changed his mind on the matter? This so-called knight abandoned his family, his title, _and_ his kingdom without a word to anyone, and you honestly thought that he would just come back home if you were _brave_ like a knight?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Felix realized he had made a very big mistake. 

Annette’s eyes went as wide as saucers and her mouth formed a small ‘O’. Felix’s mind reeled in a desperate attempt to find words to mend the situation, but it was far too late for that. Annette’s sadness had been replaced by a white-hot rage that burned in her eyes in a matter of seconds. 

“How dare you,” she hissed venomously. “How _dare_ you suggest that I’m a fool for wanting my family to be whole again. Just because you’ll never have your dead brother back doesn’t mean you have any right to judge me for wanting to have my living father back!”

Felix felt as though she had punched him straight in the gut. “You’re a fool for thinking a man like him places any value on his family,” he roared back at her. “If he did, he would _never_ have abandoned you in the first place! Knights are all the same, throwing away the people they should value most in the world in service to someone else!”

Annette flinched as though he had slapped her across the face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Felix recognized that he was only making the situation worse. He tried to ignore the guilt that was beginning to creep into his chest. He felt a righteous fury toward Gilbert, and he knew he shouldn’t be taking out his anger at him on Annette. It was too late to close the floodgates though. 

“You really are evil!” Annette shouted at him, flinging his handkerchief into his chest. There were tears pouring down her face again but this time she didn’t seem to have any trouble finding words to throw at him. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you don’t believe in chivalry or virtue. You think you’re better than everybody else who’s here to become a knight. Believe me, I’ve heard about what you’ve said to others! Well,” she stepped forward and poked him hard in the chest with her index finger. “I have news for you: you’re a fool for thinking you know _anything_ about what it means to be a true knight!”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. Without waiting for a response, Annette turned on her heel and ran out of the room. Felix stood dumbfounded in front of the fire as he listened to her accusations echoing in his head now instead of the silly song that he had been unable to forget. Mutely, Felix bent down to pick up his handkerchief. He stared at the embroidered Crest of Fraldarius that was still damp from Annette’s tears and wondered what on earth he could possibly do to restore the friendship he hadn’t known he valued so much.

\---

Tensions were high among the Blue Lions for the remainder of the month. No one could fail to notice that Felix and Annette were not on speaking terms. They avoided each other so obviously that it was beginning to make class awkward. On top of that, there was the added strain of their end of month mission, which was to confront Ashe’s adoptive father, Lord Lonato, about his connections to the Western Church. To make things even worse, Ingrid was making good on her promise to make Felix regret ever hurting Annette.

Where Annette refused to interact with Felix or acknowledge his presence in a room, Ingrid went out of her way to follow him around and hound him about the situation. “What in the world did you do to her?” Ingrid demanded furiously. At first, Felix had declined to admit anything about what had occurred in the knight’s hall, but as their mission loomed ever closer and Annette still showed no sign of wishing to reconcile their argument, he finally broke down and explained everything to his two oldest friends.

He was sitting sullenly in the training grounds with Ingrid and Sylvain when he finally finished recounting what had happened. “She made me promise not to tell anyone about that,” he muttered without looking at either of them. “So, make sure you keep your mouths shut about it. I’m only telling you because I have no idea how to fix this mess.”

Ingrid was beside herself with fury once he finished the story. “You mean to tell me,” she said in a rising voice, “That not only did you call her an idiot for wanting to try and get her father back, you _also_ told her that her whole quest was essentially pointless?”

Felix grunted and muttered something unintelligible. 

“I can’t believe you would be so heartless,” Ingrid said in disbelief. “I know you’ve hated everything about knighthood ever since Glenn died, but that doesn’t give you any right to tell others that they’re fools for believing that those ideals are real!”

“Yeah, Felix,” Sylvain agreed in an uncharacteristically serious manner. “You were a complete tool to treat her like that. You’ve got to apologize to her!”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Felix said through gritted teeth. “Annette won’t even look at me now.”

“I can’t say that I blame her,” Ingrid sneered nastily. She poked him in the chest in a perfect imitation of Annette. “You absolutely deserve this treatment. You’ve brought this on yourself.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Felix snapped angrily. “Ingrid, I need to know how to _fix_ this. I can’t lose her.”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. He was developing a bad habit of not thinking through what he wanted to say before he said it. That’s what had caused this whole argument in the first place. He had to go back to keeping his feelings locked away; they were of no use to a warrior. Emotions only made things more difficult.

“Well, you’ve done a very poor job of keeping her,” Sylvain pointed out ruthlessly. “I think you’d better consider yourself extremely lucky if Annette ever gives you the time of day again.”

“If I was you,” Ingrid told him viciously. “I’d keep my mouth shut as much as possible before you make things worse. You’ll need to sincerely apologize when she’s ready to listen, but for now, you’d better _show_ her that you’re sorry through your actions.”

“What if she’s never ready to listen?” Felix asked through gritted teeth. He hated feeling powerless. This is exactly why he was training to master the way of the sword; weapons did what they were told, and they didn’t have feelings to hurt like humans did. Still, he couldn’t help but remember what Annette had said to him at the start of term: _There’s so many situations where you can’t simply battle your way out._ He hadn’t taken her seriously back then. Now he realized that she had been right. 

Ingrid and Sylvain shared a glance over the top of his head. It wasn’t like Felix to worry about arguments. He had never had this problem with either of them or with Dimitri; he had always known they would make up after they all had time to cool off. Annette, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity, and he’d only know her for a short time. She might be more willing to let their budding friendship die because of this.

“I think she’ll come around eventually,” Sylvain ventured uncertainly. “Like Ingrid said, all you can do for now is show her that you’re sorry for what you said.”

_I can’t fight my way out of this mess,_ Felix thought bitterly. 

It was not a comforting feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I did want to make a mention here that I am trying to follow the big events and plot points accurately, however I am also going to be taking some liberties with the details of the story. So, you may notice things going forward which do not perfectly match the canon or things that weren't expanded on that I fleshed out for the purposes of the story. I am trying to keep things and characters as accurate as possible, but it's way more fun to make the details my own rather than doing a total carbon-copy of the game :) 
> 
> I also am planning to post the next chapter before Christmas, so maybe look for that around Sunday or Monday next week! 
> 
> Love, Kami


	7. Fear

Annette knew that she was being petty, but she didn’t care. Ever since that fateful evening in the knight’s hall, she had ignored Felix’s very existence as thoroughly as possible. She did not care if everyone in Garreg Mach knew that they were fighting. She was not bothered by how tense classes with the Blue Lions had become now that they were not speaking to each other. Annette felt justified in her anger which gave her some measure of comfort as she went about her daily life pretending that she could neither see nor hear the dark-haired swordsman that she had come to like very much. 

In fact, Annette’s biggest concern during the aftermath of their argument was not Felix at all. 

Annette’s first course of action upon storming away from Felix was to show up on Mercedes’ doorstep for the third time in as many days and pour out the whole story to her. She had thought that Mercedes would take her side in hating Felix and validate her outrage at what he had said. She had thought they might spend the remainder of the evening sitting together and berating him behind the privacy of Mercedes’ door. Unfortunately, to Annette’s shock, her friend had taken a much different view of the matter.

“Oh, Annie,” Mercedes said as she hugged Annette tightly. She passed Annette her own handkerchief—a yellow piece of fabric embroidered with pink flowers which did not remind Annette one bit of the one she had flung back at Felix—and poured her some tea. “I’m so sorry that this happened between you.”

“He’s evil, Mercie,” Annette insisted fiercely. She frowned into the dark liquid as if it might speak up and agree with her assessment. “I was so stupid to tell him all of that. I trusted him and he flung it all back in my face.”

“Oh, Annie…I agree that what he said to you was awful,” Mercedes began tentatively. She dropped a spoonful of sugar into her own cup, watching Annette closely through her eyelashes. “But it sounds to me that he was in pain, too.”

“What did he have to be in pain about?” Annette demanded resentfully. She picked up her teacup and took a long sip. “He wasn’t the one who was just rejected by their father for the second time!”

“Didn’t he tell you how he lost his brother in the Tragedy of Duscur?” Mercedes asked gently. “I think he was reminded of a very painful time in his own life, and he was projecting his own grief at that loss on you.”

Annette sat bolt upright in her chair and stared at Mercedes in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right Mercie?” she asked with wide eyes. “You’re not seriously defending _Felix,_ are you?”

“I’m not defending what he said to you,” Mercedes assured her. “It was unnecessarily cruel, and he owes you an apology for it. However,” she held up a finger to forestall Annette’s retort. “You were equally cruel with your words and you failed to recognize the place of grief from which he was speaking.”

Annette couldn’t believe her ears. She had been certain that Mercedes would support her in this, and she wasn’t prepared to be told she had been in the wrong too. She toyed with the edge of Mercedes’ quilt, avoiding her eyes. 

“Annie, it’s okay for you to be upset with Felix,” Mercedes went on. “Just give yourself some time away from him and see how you feel about everything after that. I think with some time apart, you will see things a bit differently.”

“I doubt it,” Annette snorted. “I really think he’s evil, Mercie. Completely and wholly _evil._ ”

Mercedes smiled serenely. “Oh, I don’t think you believe that at all,” she said with a knowing look. “If you did, you wouldn’t have to repeat it to convince yourself it’s true.”

\---

True to her conversation with Mercedes, Annette had no intention of forgiving Felix for what had transpired between them in the knight’s hall. Since she couldn’t afford to miss any more classes, she decided that the only way to make life bearable in Garreg Mach was to pretend that Felix simply didn’t exist. To that end, she refused to make eye-contact with him if he happened to cross into her field of vision, and she would ignore any mention of his name in her presence. Thankfully, it seemed that Felix shared Annette’s resolve on the matter, and he made no move to approach her.

To Annette’s knowledge, nobody other than Mercedes knew what has sparked the argument. She was used to hearing gossip at school—students at the Royal School of Sorcery were no different—but she had never been the object of a rumor. Try as she might, Annette could not help but hear snippets of conversation as she passed through her day. People would whisper behind their hands if they saw her across the yard or stop talking entirely if she passed within earshot. It made her face burn.

Although the students in the Blue Lion class were the most affected by the circumstances, they made a valiant effort to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to it. Group work was carefully organized to ensure that Annette did not have to work together with Felix for anything. If either of them happened to be in the dining hall at the same time, Ingrid would ensure that she either shooed Felix out entirely or made it a point to sit with Annette as far as possible from him. During study sessions, Annette had taken to bringing her library books to her own room rather than working alongside her classmates for fear that someone might ask her directly about the issue—she wouldn’t put it past someone like Hilda or Dorothea to do just that. 

After several days of this behaviour, Mercedes had evidently decided that enough was enough and pulled Annette aside after class one afternoon. Annette was not surprised at this; she knew Mercedes well enough to expect that she would eventually broach the subject again. Annette would have preferred to stay in the dormitory to have this discussion where there was no risk of eavesdropping, but Mercedes flatly refused to spend another minute cooped up in a small room to talk about the same issue yet again. 

They had compromised on going to the Cathedral to talk since it was large enough that they could easily find a spot to sit by themselves, but which was also busy enough that no one would be able to eavesdrop with coming close enough for them to notice. As an added bonus, it was time for daily choir practice which made the perfect cover for having a conversation without the chance of being overheard. Sitting in a pew in the darkest corner of the Cathedral that they could find, Annette found herself shrinking under friend’s withering gaze.

“Annette, you’re being childish,” Mercedes admonished her firmly. She looked everything like the older sister Annette had always wanted. “I understand that you’re angry and I don’t blame you for it. But you must give Felix a chance to apologize.”

“No,” Annette insisted angrily. “I won’t do it. He was horrible, Mercie! He had no right to judge my feelings like that.”

“No, he doesn’t. And you have no right to tell him that your feelings were more valid because your father is alive and his brother isn’t,” Mercedes said sharply. Annette had rarely seen her friend looking so thunderous. “Don’t give me that face, Annie. You were both awful to each other, however I am absolutely certain Felix regrets everything he said to you.”

“As well he should,” Annette bristled. “He hasn’t exactly made any move to apologize anyway Mercie. If he really did regret it, he would have done it by now.”

“How is he supposed to that when you won’t even look at him?” Mercedes countered with a note of frustration in her voice. “You must have noticed that he’s been trying to get your attention for the last two days now.”

Annette shifted uncomfortably in the pew. “I haven’t noticed anything,” she lied.

Mercedes’ gaze was like ice. “Don’t lie to me,” she said, unknowingly echoing Felix in as equally cold a voice. “Annie, I know you better than anyone here.”

The mage-girl sighed heavily. “Okay, you’re right, I have noticed,” Annette admitted grudgingly. Pretending he didn’t exist had proven to be much easier said than done, especially when they were frequently in close quarters to each other. “Still, if he was really sorry, he would be making more of an effort.”

“I don’t see you making an effort either. It’s a two-way street,” Mercedes pointed out. She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “Look, you can’t tell me that you’re okay with this, can you? Are you really happy to throw away your friendship? You were getting along so well. I think it would be a shame to let that all go.”

Annette sat back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “No,” she said at last. “No, I don’t want to give our friendship up. But it hurt so much, Mercie, to hear someone say to my face exactly what I was fearing was true deep in my own heart.”

Mercedes looked sadly at her friend. “Ultimately, you’ll need to work this out yourselves,” she said patting Annette’s shoulder comfortingly. “Maybe you should try giving Felix a chance, then?”

\---

“Our next mission will be to bring us to Castle Gaspard via Magdred Way,” Professor Byleth advised the class three days later. “We will be departing in two days. I expect each of you will be well rested and adequately prepared for the mission.”

Annette was not paying attention to the lesson. She absently doodled in her notebook and stared pensively at the far wall. She had taken Mercedes’ advice to heart and tried to allow herself to be open to giving Felix an opportunity to approach her if he wished, but so far Felix hadn’t done so. Annette wasn’t even sure what to do herself. _I could go talk to him,_ she thought. _But he’s ignoring me as surely as I’ve been ignoring him._

“I will be reviewing the blueprints of Castle Gaspard and preparing battle formations prior to our departure,” Professor Byleth continued neutrally. “This will be a difficult battle against trained soldiers, so we must be cautious. They will fight in a more orderly fashion that the bandits in the Red Canyon.”

Annette was beginning to regret deciding to give Felix the cold shoulder all this time. Now that she had had enough time to dwell on the argument and had given some real consideration to Mercedes’ analysis, Annette realized that she was being petty purely out of spite. It wasn’t like her to act like this. Felix had been wrong in what he said, but Annette had been equally malicious in retaliation. She chewed on the end of quill absentmindedly. _I could write him a note,_ she mused. _No, that’s too impersonal. He deserves a verbal apology._

“Please ensure that you see me if you need any weapons repaired or if you require anything new,” Professor Byleth said as she collected her papers on the desk into a neat pile. “Class is dismissed. Annette, may I speak with you?”

Annette didn’t hear the Professor call on her. She continued to twirl the quill between her fingers as she stared blankly ahead. _Maybe I could make him something tasty,_ she thought seriously. _They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Maybe it would convince him to accept an apology too._

Professor Byleth rapped her knuckle loudly on the desk in front of Annette. The mage-girl jumped in her seat. “Ah, Professor!” she said quickly and scrambling to stuff her notebook into her bag. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you!”

The other woman stared at her expressionlessly. “I’d like to speak with you,” she repeated. “Please, come join me for some tea.”

“Oh!” Annette replied in surprise. “Of course. I’d be delighted.”

“Good. Follow me.” Without waiting for a reply, the Professor turned on her heel and swept out of the room. 

Feeling somewhat foolish for being caught daydreaming in class, Annette slung her own bag over her shoulder and dutifully followed Professor Byleth out of the room. She chanced a glance toward Felix who was still fiddling with the catch on his own bag. His amber eyes caught hers as she passed by, but his expression was unreadable. Feeling her face going red with shame, Annette turned away and hurried out into the afternoon sunshine.

Ten minutes later, Annette was sitting with a steaming cup of Rose Petal Blend in front of her and a plate of macarons between herself and Professor Byleth. “I called you here to discuss the upcoming battle,” she told Annette without preamble. “I want to confirm that you will be mentally prepared for the fight.”

Annette took a sip of her tea. “Yes,” she said resolutely. “I will be fine.”

Although Professor Byleth rarely showed any emotion, her expression now was shrewd. “I have been observing you closely since we returned from the Red Canyon. You seem to have recovered well from your first battle experience. However,” the Professor paused to sip her own tea before continuing. “I know that you have been struggling with some…personal problems in recent weeks.”

Annette felt her face begin to heat up again. 

“If you are uncomfortable to fight alongside any of your allies, I will have you sit this battle out until you are able to resolve your disagreement,” Professor Byleth told her impersonally. “You need to be mentally prepared to face anything and to work with anyone.”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with me, Professor,” Annette responded more staunchly than she felt. “I am capable of fighting. I won’t become a liability for anyone this time.”

Professor Byleth leaned back in her chair and stared at Annette for a long moment. “In that case,” she said at last, “I will allow you to participate in the battle. If you should experience any further anxiety while we are engaged in the fight, you must retreat immediately to safety.”

Annette nodded in agreement. “Yes, I will.”

“One other thing,” Professor Byleth continued, leaning forward toward Annette. “I recall that during our individual meeting the other week, I had asked you to begin training Sylvain and Felix in the use of anima magic. Has this begun?”

Annette shook her head. “No, Professor,” she said quietly. There was no point in making any excuses. “I’m sorry.”

“It is no matter,” Professor Byleth said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I expect that you will resolve your differences with Felix as soon as possible, if only so that you will be able to complete this task. Luckily,” she added as an afterthought, “We may have another student assisting our class next month who will be able to help with tutoring one of them as well. I will let you know if that is the case, and we will revise our approach as needed.”

Annette nodded solemnly. _I must fix this,_ she thought. _It’s my fault it’s gone on for so long already._

\---

There was no opportunity for Annette to speak with Felix privately prior to departing on their mission to Castle Gaspard. The tense atmosphere among the Blue Lions persisted throughout their journey, although this was not solely due to the two of them. Since they were on the way to confront Ashe’s adoptive father, he was understandably beside himself with worry and confusion. Mercedes and Ingrid both tried to offer words of encouragement and comfort to him, but Ashe’s nerves were already beyond repair. On top of this, the Church had sent a squadron of their own soldiers to accompany the class as backup, and they were led by none other than Thunderstrike Catherine. Everyone was on edge with the pressure of needing to perform perfectly under her watch.

As they reached Magdred Way, Professor Byleth called for a halt due to a thick fog beginning to drift through the trees on either side of the road. Visibility was becoming poorer by the minute and would make further travel dangerous. “There is something unnatural about this,” Catherine’s voice carried down the line as she conferred with the Professor at the front of the convoy. “This area should not be fogging up at this time of year. We must keep our guard up.”

“Something feels off about this,” Mercedes whispered to Annette. “I don’t think this is natural.”

Annette shivered and hugged herself tightly. “It feels wrong,” she agreed. “Do you hear anything?”

“No,” Mercedes began softly. Her eyes widened like saucers. “Wait--!”

The attack came without warning. Soldiers appeared from the fog on either side of the convoy with a great cry and everything dissolved into chaos. Students and Church soldiers moved in a hundred different directions to meet the ambush. Distantly, Professor Byleth was shouting orders as she tried to exercise some control over the situation. Annette found it hard to hear her over the din, feeling her anxiety mount as she spun around to survey the area. Somehow, she’d already lost Mercedes in the mist, and she felt more alone and exposed than she had before.

Still, Annette didn’t have time to worry about anyone else as a tall man in plain armour rushed toward her with his sword raised. Instinctively, she reached for her magic and cast a quick wind spell to knock him off his feet. She heard him fall to the ground several paces away with a loud _thud._ Not knowing if he was dead, Annette turned to flee toward Professor Byleth’s voice and saw another soldier hurrying toward her.

“Get away from me!” she shouted, readying another spell. 

The soldier didn’t pay her any heed. He pulled his sword arm back and thrust his blade toward Annette’s chest. She dodged the attack, landed awkwardly on her right foot, and felt it twist on an odd angle. Ignoring the pain, she forced herself to stand and send the spell at him. The sharp blades of wind cut into his armour like a thousand tiny knives and Annette could hear him scream as he fell limply to the ground. She was breathing heavily and stumbled to her knees as her ankle gave out underneath her. 

_I don’t have time to worry about the pain,_ she thought desperately as she fumbled on the ground for anything that might help her remain standing. _It’s either kill or be killed. I can’t worry about the morality of taking their lives when they have no qualms about taking mine!_

Annette finally found a stick thick enough to support her weight and forced herself to stand. She leaned heavily on it and heard the wood creak ominously. “Professor!” she cried into the din of battle. “Orders, Professor Byleth?”

She wasn’t sure if the Professor could hear her at all. There was so much noise around them and the fog was too thick to tell if she was close to friend or foe, although they were surely outnumbered by the enemy. Annette forced herself to keep moving toward what she thought was the front of the convoy. If she could rendezvous with Professor Byleth, Annette knew she would be in a much safer position to provide support. 

“Stop right there!” came a rough voice from her left. 

Annette spun as quickly as she could and felt her injured ankle crack again. She gasped in pain and clung to her walking stick desperately as her knees began to give way. Three more soldiers were bearing down on her in plain grey armour. Two of them carried axes and the third held a long lance that was gleaming with blood. Annette felt her stomach drop at the sight of it, but she pushed the thought away. _Don’t think about it,_ she told herself frantically. She hoped it wasn’t the blood of one of her friends.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted at her attackers as loudly as she could. She was outnumbered and already weak from her injured ankle. Annette knew she had no hope of fending them off by herself in this state. _Besides,_ she thought as she prepared a fire spell, _Magic takes time to cast. By the Goddess, I hope someone is nearby!_

She cast the fire ball just as the first axeman reached her. It hit him squarely in the chest, heating his armour to an unbearable temperature and scorching his beard. He screamed in terror, dropping his axe and stumbled away into the dense fog. Only two enemies remained, but Annette knew she was in trouble now. The soldier with the lance thrust it toward her savagely. It grazed her arm as she moved out of the way and tripped forward to the ground again. She screamed in pain and clutched the wound in a wild attempt to staunch the flow of blood. A distant part of her mind knew it was pointless. 

The remaining axeman rushed forward with his weapon raised high in the air. She could see her own horrified face reflected in the steel, helplessly stranded on the ground with no spell prepared with which to defend herself. She screamed again, praying that someone would hear. “Help me!” Annette shouted as she desperately rolled out of the way of the attack. She saw the other solider rushing toward her with his lance raised. “Someone, please! I’m over here! Mercie! Professor! Anyone!”

Reaching for her magic once more, Annette knew she was about to die. She would never be able to cast her next spell in time to defend herself. She would die without being able to reunite her family or apologizing to Felix. She would die without being able to tell Mercedes how much she loved her or fulfilling her own dream to become a great warlock. 

The solider was almost upon her. He had a vicious face spattered with the blood of other people he’d fought and killed. His comrade was close behind him with his axe at the ready. Annette raised her hand to stave them off with her spell, but it wasn’t ready. It wouldn’t be strong enough yet to deal any noticeable damage. She needed more time, or rather, she needed someone who would not abandon her to _buy_ her time. 

“Please!” she yelled desperately into the sky. “I need you! Please, _Felix!_ ”

The solider stood above her now with the tip of his bloody lance pointed downward. Annette closed her eyes involuntarily, raising her arms in front of her and hoping that the wind she had conjured would be enough to deflect the attack from piercing her through. 

“Get the _fuck_ away from her!” 

The lance never fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have been following this story. I'm so thrilled to see so many people interested in where it's going, and I'm excited to share more with you! I hope you enjoyed this little update :) I'll post the next one on Thursday or Friday this week, after the craziness of the holidays have passed somewhat. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to you!
> 
> Love, Kami


	8. Villain

Felix had lost track of Annette’s whereabouts almost immediately once the attack on their party began. He had been walking near the rear of the convoy in order to keep a discrete eye on her in case there was an opportunity to pull her aside and make his apology. It wasn’t the most ideal place for it (or the most private) but he had concluded that it couldn’t be put off any longer. He had noticed Annette glance at him as she had followed Professor Byleth to an impromptu meeting and how her face had flushed a deep shade of red. Felix didn’t know if she would listen to him, but it was the only sign he had seen from her that gave him hope that she might.

He cut down his assailants without hesitation and turned to help Dimitri fend off a third. By the time Felix spun back toward the place he had last seen Annette, she had already vanished into the dense fog. He cursed loudly and darted past Dedue and Ashe, ignoring their shouts for assistance. He knew Ingrid was nearby; she would help them. _Besides,_ Felix thought as he ran, _Annette is probably in more danger._

The fog was too thick for him to see anyone clearly, so Felix was forced to rely on his hearing instead. He heard two more attackers approaching him before they were close enough for him to see. Felix raised his blade in a defensive posture as they reached him with their blades outstretched. “Weak,” he muttered, moving swiftly out of the way and swinging his own weapon in a wide sweep. His blade bit flesh and forced the first swordsman to fall to the ground as he tried to stop the flow of blood. 

Felix had no pity for him and put the man out of his misery with a final thrust of his blade. The remaining soldier rushed at him again with a loud cry. Felix parried the counterattack and felt his Crest of Fraldarius activate, suffusing his arm with power. The second soldier fell without another sound to the ground beside his comrade. Felix leaned against a tree, breathing hard and fast. He could hear voices all around, bit he needed to listen closely if he had any hope of hearing Annette. _Do mages even say anything when they cast a spell?_ he wondered belatedly. If they didn’t, there would be no way to hear her unless she called for help.

Through the dense fog, a flash of faint red light flickered and caught Felix’s eye. Without thinking, he pushed off the tree and ran toward it. As he drew closer, he could hear panicked screaming over the noise of the rest of the battle going on around him. “Annette!” Felix whispered as he bounded through the fog, dodging the bodies of the dead. “Wait for me…!”

He heard her voice then, as if Annette had known he was near. 

“I need you! Please, _Felix!_ ”

Hearing Annette call to him for help steeled Felix’s resolve that their argument had not only been ridiculous, but that he did have a real hope of fixing the situation. He could see Annette clearly now, trapped on the ground with her arms raised in front of her face and looking terrified at what was about to happen. It was as though the fog had melted away entirely and they existed purely in this moment. The soldier in front of her hadn’t seen Felix approaching at a dead run, his bloody blade raised and ready to strike. 

“Get the _fuck_ away from her!” Felix roared. He leapt through the air like a demon, his face alight with the thrill of battle. 

The blade cut into the man’s flesh before the soldier had time to turn around. Felix stabbed him through the back with a ferocity that only Dimitri could possibly have matched. The soldier dropped his lance uselessly as he died, blood gurgling in his throat. Felix pulled his sword out roughly and let the body fall to the ground. The adrenaline of searching for Annette and finding her mere seconds from certain death was beginning to dissipate. _I made it in time,_ he thought as he glanced down at Annette. _I made it in time!_

Annette had dropped her arms from in front of her face and let the spell she had been preparing to cast fade into nothingness. Her face was bone-white beneath a mask of spattered blood. Felix knew he must look just a bad, if perhaps less frightened. He, too, was covered in the blood of the soldiers he had slaughtered and dripping with sweat from his desperate search for Annette through the dense fog. Unhesitatingly, Felix dropped down to the ground beside Annette to get a better look at her face, to make sure she wasn’t more seriously injured. 

“You came,” Annette whispered in awe. Her blue eyes were wide, as if she didn’t quite believe he was here in the flesh. 

“Of course I did,” Felix replied briskly, as though they were having a pleasant conversation in a flower patch rather than a battlefield. “I wouldn’t leave you to die.”

Annette tried to smile but it looked pained. “Thank you,” she said quickly. “Felix, I—”

“It can wait,” he interrupted brusquely, knowing what she was going to say. “Let me see your arm.”

Annette held it out obediently for him to examine. Felix was no healer, but he knew the wound was deep and she was losing too much blood. It was likely partially to blame for her face being so white. “We need to get you to Mercedes,” Felix said quickly. “Can you walk?”

“Not on my own,” she replied with a grimace, one hand absently reaching for her foot. “I hurt my ankle in the initial attack. I’m not sure if it’s broken or just sprained, but it hurts like hell.”

“Lean on me,” Felix ordered. He wound his arm around her waist and pulled Annette up from the ground. She favoured her left leg and tried to keep a hand over the wound on her arm, though it wasn’t doing much good. Felix cursed as blood continued to seep through Annette’s slim fingers. “This damned fog is too thick. It was a miracle that I found you at all.”

“It’s not a natural fog,” Annette said through gritted teeth. “It came on too suddenly. Besides,” she added with a shudder. “I can feel the magic in it.”

“Can you tell where Mercedes is?” Felix asked hopefully. He hadn’t realized mages could sense magic, but it seemed a useful skill to have in battle. If she could sense other magic users, it might not be so pointless for him to take lessons in it after all.

Annette shook her head. “Not really. The fog is intercepting my ability to sense other mages nearby. I might be able to tell if she’s near if we were closer to her actual location.”

Felix didn’t need to tell her that it would be foolish to leave this spot when they had no sense of where they were or where anyone else was. He also knew they couldn’t stay here like sitting ducks, not with Annette so wounded. She laughed bitterly, clearly thinking along the same lines. “If we come across more enemies, I’ll be useless. I might be able to cast another spell, but I won’t be able to escape if you can’t hold off the attackers alone.” 

“That will not be a problem,” he said with certainty, listening as hard as he could to the sounds of battle. He tightened his grip around Annette’s waist and began to walk. “I can hear voices over that way,” Felix indicated the direction with a jerk of his head. “It sounds like Professor Byleth. She was with Catherine and her soldiers when the attack began. They may have a healer with them.”

“It’s probably our best bet,” Annette agreed as she winced with pain under Felix’s arm. “I’m sorry to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Felix said as they walked. He glanced around them, hoping that he might be able to see an oncoming attack before it landed. “This ambush was well-planned.”

“I was injured due to my own carelessness,” she said with another grimace. “I panicked and didn’t notice anything about my surroundings.”

“We were ambushed,” Felix repeated firmly. He didn’t understand why Annette was always so quick to take the blame for things that she had no part in. “The whole point of an ambush is to cause chaos like that. You’re lucky you were able to survive so long on your own.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she said fervently. “I was attacked by three…no, five soldiers. You arrived just in time. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

Felix grunted and shifted his arm around Annette to get a better grip, trying to ignore how comfortably she seemed to fit beside him. He adjusted their course slightly. “I lost sight of you at the beginning of the battle,” Felix muttered without looking at her. He was still angry with himself for that. “I only found you because I saw a flash of light through the fog and heard you scream.”

Annette didn’t say anything for a moment. “I had hoped you would hear me,” she said finally. “I didn’t know if you were nearby, or if anyone was nearby. It was my only hope. Felix, stop here for a moment, please?”

They stopped and said nothing for a long moment. Felix became aware that sounds of battle had begun to fade, and he could no longer hear people shouting through the mist. Annette’s body sagged against his arm and her eyes had closed, so he had to tighten his grip to keep her vaguely upright. He tried not to wonder how it would feel to hold her like this when she wasn’t injured or crying. _This is what anyone would do,_ he told himself, trying to stare anywhere but at the girl beside him. _It doesn’t mean anything. Anyone would have done it._

“The fog is beginning to disappear,” Felix said in surprise. He could see the white mist beginning to fade amongst the trees as he valiantly tried to find something to stare at that wasn’t the redheaded girl he’d slung his arm around. He chanced a glance down at her, wondering if she could tell that his heart was pounding more quickly than it ought to be in the aftermath of battle. 

“Yes,” Annette agreed with a smile, her blue eyes fluttering open again. “Something felt different just now. Give me a moment, let me see if I can sense Mercie nearby.”

\---

The aftermath of Magdred Way was a bloodier affair than the Red Canyon had been. The attack had been orchestrated by Lord Lonato and his soldiers had been decimated despite the ambush. Even so, many of the soldiers that the Church had sent along with them were also dead. Felix thought it was nothing short of a miracle that none of the students had died as well. Annette was not the only one to suffer injury; Ingrid had been stabbed in her leg and Dedue had been knocked out completely. Everyone else had suffered a variety of more minor injuries.

The return journey to Garreg Mach was a rather sombre affair. The injured students rode in a wagon together per Mercedes’ orders to ensure they did not further strain themselves and reopen their wounds. Although her healing had certainly saved them from losing more blood, she hadn’t had the strength to heal them completely. “You’ll just have to take it easy for a few days,” she had told them with a faint smile before slumping over in the wagon herself, asleep from sheer exhaustion. 

Classes were suspended for a few days upon their arrival back at the Monastery to allow time for the Blue Lions to recuperate. This also allowed Professor Byleth time to confer with Lady Rhea and the knights about the suspicious letter found on Lord Lonato’s body at the end of the battle suggesting an assassination plot planned for the following month. Felix had no doubt that this would be their next mission, but he didn’t much care. He was just happy that they had gotten through this one alive and that Annette had begun speaking to him again. 

On the eve of their first class since returning to the Monastery, Felix was dozing in his room after an afternoon in the training grounds when he heard a faint knock on his door. _That better not be Sylvain,_ he thought irritably as he turned the handle. 

“Hi,” Annette said a little nervously. She was still favouring her left leg slightly, but she looked much better after several days of bedrest. She carried a covered tray under one arm. “May I come in?”

Felix stepped back from the entrance and waved her through. “To what do I owe this visit?” he asked carefully, shutting the door behind her. It wouldn’t do for Sylvain or Ingrid to come strolling by and seeing her visiting. He could vividly imagine what they would say about the situation, and didn’t relish the concept of dealing with the aftermath of it. 

Annette set the tray down on the table and settled herself in a chair. “I brought tea,” she said evasively, reaching to remove the cover on the silver tray. “You like Four-Spice Blend, right?”

Felix took a seat across from her and kept his gaze firmly fixed on her face. Annette pushed a cup in front of him and poured the tea which had already been steeping. There was a plate of macarons as well to which Annette had already helped herself. “You didn’t just come here for a tea party, did you?” he asked shrewdly a long moment of silence between them. 

“No,” she said honestly and sipping her tea delicately, wrinkling her nose slightly at the bitter taste. Her eyes looked tired, as though her days of rest had not been terribly restful at all. “But I thought it might make this conversation a bit more comfortable.”

Felix nodded slowly and drank as well. “I do like Four-Spice Blend,” he concurred softly.

“Felix,” Annette began quietly. She shifted nervously in her seat but kept her hands folded on the table in front of her. “I came here to apologize to you for what I said to you that night in the knight’s hall. It was wrong of me to treat you the way that I did then and thereafter.” Annette paused and held his gaze for a moment before bowing her head. “Please, accept my apology for how I have been acting toward you. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“I accept your apology,” Felix replied gravely. “I thank you for it.”

Annette looked up in surprise, as though she had expected him to hold it against her. “I’m glad,” she said sincerely. “I’m so sorry, Felix.”

“I owe you an apology as well,” Felix continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “I treated you terribly after you confided your story and your fears in me. I have no excuse for my words or actions. Annette,” he said firmly and holding her gaze. “I apologize for my behaviour. You did not deserve that either.”

“Thank you,” she said with a watery smile. Felix hoped she wasn’t about to start crying again. He really wasn’t cut out for comforting crying women, and he didn’t have the same amount of practice in it that Sylvain did. “It means a lot to me.”

“Let’s put this behind us,” Felix suggested. He felt exhausted from the emotional toll this whole situation had taken on him, considering he generally tried very hard to _avoid_ doing anything even remotely emotionally taxing. “Have another macaron.”

She giggled and took a second one from the tray. “This feels so much better,” Annette said in a cheerful voice and sounding as though a huge weight had been lifted off of her slim shoulders. “I was so worried you would turn me away.”

Felix raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea. “If I didn’t leave you to die in the fog, do you really think I would refuse to speak to you now?” he asked a little incredulously. 

“I suppose not,” Annette replied. She avoided his gaze and instead stared avidly at a point past Felix’s shoulder. “I guess…well, I was just afraid I had ruined our friendship. I didn’t want to take it for granted that you would accept my apology.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said firmly after another sip of tea. “How’s your ankle?”

Annette shrugged. “It’s all right. Still sore, but Mercie told me it should be as good as new in a few more days. My arm is completely healed now, though!” She waved it around in a circle as if to prove it.

“Excellent.” Felix reached for the teapot and poured himself another cup. He glanced at her, and gestured to her cup. “Would you like more as well?”

“Please.” Annette pushed her cup closer to the centre of the table. “Actually, I had one other reason for coming to visit you tonight.”

“And that is…?” Felix poured the tea into her cup and set the pot back onto the tray. He eyed the macarons distrustfully. They were probably too sweet. 

“I’m sure Professor Byleth has already spoken to you about it, but she had asked me ages ago to teach you the basics of using magic,” Annette explained. “Well…since we haven’t gotten around to starting that yet…I wanted to find out when you’d be free to begin?”

Felix hadn’t forgotten about this request from Professor Byleth, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it either. Although he had no qualms spending time studying with Annette, he still hadn’t quite been able to see the point of learning magic when he was a swordsman through and through. “I usually train in the evenings after dinner,” he said slowly. “If we must practice magic, then I would think the time immediately after classes would be best.”

Annette reached for a third macaron as she pondered his response. “Don’t you like these?” she demanded suddenly, her eyes sharp and fierce. Felix felt like there was probably a right answer to this question, but he didn’t want to lie to her either.

“I don’t like sweets,” Felix said with another frown at the macarons as though they had insulted him. 

Her face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad. I would have brought a different snack if I’d realized that.”

“It’s fine,” Felix waved away her concern. “I’m not hungry anyway. You enjoy them, Annette.”

“Let’s start our lessons tomorrow after class then,” Annette said a few minutes later, still looking slightly crestfallen about the sweets. “I don’t want the Professor to get mad at me again for putting them off any longer.”

Felix nodded in acquiescence and finished his tea with a final gulp. “I will be ready.”

“Great!” Annette smiled more brightly, and Felix felt his chest hurt oddly again. He wondered if he ought to go to the infirmary about it, and immediately decided that would be foolish. He didn’t trust Professor Manuela to treat the ailment properly, even if she was sober. “In that case, I’d better be going now. It’s getting late, and it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

\---

Magic turned out to be a difficult subject to teach. Due to their late start, and in an effort to meet Professor Byleth’s expectations, Annette had insisted that they meet together in the library at least three evenings a week to get a grasp of the theory. To Felix—who had never yet encountered a weapon he could not simply pick up and use—this method seemed like an excruciatingly slow way to learn anything. He had tried convincing Annette to just show him how to cast a spell in the training grounds but she had flatly refused and had looked rather horrified at the suggestion.

“It’s too dangerous,” she said seriously. Her brows were narrowed as she flipped open a book called _Beginner’s Basics to Spellcasting._ “You need to understand the theory of casting a spell before you ever attempt it. If it backfired due to improper casting, you could cause serious damage to yourself or others.”

The only saving grace to these lessons was that Sylvain had elected to not join them. Annette said that this was because Professor Byleth had arranged for Dorothea Arnault to assist the Blue Lion class and split the magic training between the two of them. “It will be easier to teach one of you at a time,” Annette had explained without looking up from the book. “So, Professor Byleth assigned Dorothea to teach Sylvain instead.”

Felix knew for a fact that Sylvain had at least two other reasons for agreeing to this change in plans, but he thought it would be better to keep that knowledge to himself. In any case, this arrangement also suited Felix just fine; he had no desire to spend several hours cooped up in a stuffy library with Sylvain’s inane flirting punctuating every lesson with Annette. It was difficult enough to concentrate on her instruction because Annette had developed a distracting habit of humming when she thought he wasn’t listening. 

The first time this had happened, Felix had been running a bit behind to their third lesson and Annette hadn’t heard him arrive. She was flipping through an old notebook from her days at the Royal School of Sorcery and humming the same tune that Felix had heard on their first shared evening in the knight’s hall. When Felix slipped into the chair across from her, Annette abruptly let the tune die and didn’t hum it again during that lesson. 

She was humming again as he arrived at their fourth lesson. “Sorry,” Annette said awkwardly when he sat down. Her eyes looked rather panicked, though for the life of him, Felix couldn’t imagine why. “Habit!”

By the sixth lesson, Felix realized he was hearing Annette’s humming even when she wasn’t around, and to his astonishment, Felix didn’t find it bothersome in the slightest. He could hear the simple tune as he took notes during class or when he trained alone with his blade. More than once, Felix heard the melody as he stood in line for meals or went about completing his assigned chores. It became a part of his daily routine without his noticing, and incredibly, Felix didn’t mind it. It was an oddly satisfying tune that proved to help keep his concentration focused on the task at hand.

“What are you doing?” Annette demanded suddenly during their seventh lesson. She set down her quill abruptly on the table and stared hard at Felix from across the table, her fingers splayed wide across the surface.

Felix looked up from the theory behind casting a basic fire spell and raised his dark eyebrows. “I’m studying,” he said warily and gesturing to the book in front of him. “You know, the same thing we’ve been doing for a while now.”

“Oh, you’re so funny,” Annette retorted sarcastically. Her blue eyes were fierce and wide, and Felix had the impression that she was deeply concerned about something. “No, I meant, what are you doing, humming my song?”

Felix blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize I was doing it,” he said truthfully as he dropped his gaze back down to the book in front of him. “I’ll stop if it bothers you.”

“How do you know the tune? I thought you had never heard it before!” Annette demanded again, apparently not willing to let the topic die. There was a faint note of hysteria lacing her voice now.

“I hadn’t,” Felix replied without looking up. Studying magical theory was getting dull. He hoped they would be able to start practicing the casting part soon. “But I’ve heard _you_ humming it enough recently that it got stuck in my head.”

“You can’t sing that,” Annette said in horror. 

“Why not? It’s catchy,” Felix said dully, not particularly invested in the conversation. He flipped a page in the textbook without much enthusiasm and twirled his own quill between his calloused fingers. 

Annette leaned across the table and pulled the book away from him. “Because…because…well it’s embarrassing! It’s not a real song!”

Exasperated now, Felix looked up with an annoyed frown at Annette and reached to take the book back. “So what? It’s a catchy tune.”

“You…don’t remember what you heard in the greenhouse too, do you?” Annette pleaded in a high-pitched whisper. She held the book against her chest as if it would shield her from what he might say next. “Or what you _saw?_ ”

“Yes, I do,” Felix replied in a tone of distinct frustration, feeling rather nettled by Annette’s interrogation. “What’s the problem?”

Annette stared at him as if he’d sprouted a second head. “You _have_ to forget that,” she insisted desperately. “And forget this tune!”

Felix crossed his arms and stared into her wide blue eyes. “Why in the world would I do that? They’re both catchy songs.”

“Oh, you’re _such_ an evil villain!” Annette moaned despairingly, not bothering to answer the question.

“I don’t see how this makes me either one of those things,” Felix said with another confused frown. “Look, Annette, I—”

“Felix, you have to forget all of it!” Annette ordered sharply. She stood up to give herself more height. “Or I’ll…I’ll…”

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You’ll what? Never sing around me again?”

“Yes!” Annette nodded her head vigorously in agreement with this suggestion.

“What good will that do?” Felix countered with a smirk. “Weren’t you already planning on not singing when I’m around ever again?”

“Well, yes, but…” Annette stammered. Her face was going pink. “Felix, just forget about it! You’ve got to!”

“Look, Annette, can I have the book back?” Felix asked with an exasperated sigh. “We’ll never get around to actually casting anything if you don’t let me finish studying the theory.”

“Villain!” Annette muttered as she shoved the book roughly back at him. She pouted rather more cutely than Felix would willingly admit to anyone.

“So you keep saying,” Felix murmured with another smirk and dropping his eyes back down to the pages in front of him. “I think I can live with being a villain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good holiday! We're back with another chapter and frankly, I had a good time writing this one :) I hope you find it enjoyable as well! I thought we needed to lighten the mood a little after all the sad things I've put these two through so far. 
> 
> I'm off work until after New Year's, so I hope to get a lot of writing done over the next few days. I've pre-written about half the story so far, so there's lots to come still. Many thanks to all of you who have left comments and kudos, and all of you lovely readers! I'll be back in a few days with the next chapter, as always.
> 
> Love, Kami


	9. A Promise Between Friends

By the time classes resumed during Blue Sea Moon, the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth ceremony was already fast approaching, and the class was on edge as they prepared for the day. Ashe had been more withdrawn than usual since the ambush at Magdred Way, and he’d been torn between grieving for his dead father and feeling guilty _for_ grieving a man who had opposed the Church. Mercedes seemed to understand his pain the best of all the class, and she’d taken to spending her free time with Ashe so that he might have someone to confide in. He seemed grateful for her presence, so Annette didn’t have the heart to be jealous that her friend hadn’t been spending as much time with her. 

Despite the trauma the whole situation had had on Ashe, Lady Rhea still decided to put the Blue Lions in charge of the Monastery’s security due to their success in fending off the ambush at Magdred Way. The assassination plot found on Lord Lonato had been the main topic of discussion since they had returned to regular classes as Professor Byleth sought to prepare them as much as possible for their upcoming mission. Annette privately thought that it wasn’t fair to Ashe to have to deal with the aftermath of his father’s conspiracy with the Western Church, and that the other two classes were also perfectly capable of handling security detail, but as her opinion was neither asked nor wanted, she kept these thoughts to herself. 

On the afternoon before their next mission, Annette lay slumped across her desk, twirling her quill between her fingers and wondering what more they could possibly glean from a topic that they’d been mulling over since the end of their last mission. She stared listlessly at the back of Ingrid’s head, following the tendrils of her hair as it looped in and out of her long braid, only half-listening to the conversation the rest of the class was having.

“It’s definitely a distraction,” Dimitri insisted for what had to be the hundredth time. His blond hair was matted around his face and there were dark circles under his eyes, giving the impression that he hadn’t slept in a week. “Whoever planted that note is going to be counting on security to be tightened around the Archbishop. They want their true target to be easy to access.”

“We know that,” Ingrid snapped irritably for what also had to be the hundredth time. She looked equally exhausted from their ceaseless brooding over the alleged assassination. “We’ve also deduced the likeliest target. The enemy is almost certainly planning on attacking the Holy Mausoleum.” 

“There is no need to argue,” Professor Byleth said calmly. Of everyone, only she seemed unaffected by their increased workload, and her face was as blank as usual. “I have already prepared a plan.”

She consulted her notes and surveyed the room, her blue eyes lingering on Ashe’s downcast face. He hadn’t said a word during the entire class. Annette had kindly given her usual spot beside Mercedes to him and watched as she rubbed slow, comforting circles on his back. Instead she sat on her own a few rows back, in line with where Sylvain and Felix sat on the other side of the room. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the front of the room and found it more difficult than when she sat with her back to them. 

“We’ll divide off into pairs on the morrow,” Professor Byleth explained, flipping the chalkboard over to the blank side opposite the monthly chore schedule. “There are several smaller entrances into the Monastery that need to be monitored, as well as the main entrance, and the Holy Mausoleum itself.”

The Professor took a piece of chalk and began to write names on the board. Annette sat up a little straighter in her seat to get a better look. “For the west entrance, Dedue and Mercedes,” she said, the chalk making a _scritch scritch_ noise as she dragged it over the chalkboard. “For the east entrance, Dorothea and Sylvain.”

Annette chanced a glance across from her in time to see a satisfied smile on Sylvain’s face. Ingrid had turned in her seat to shoot him an exasperated glare while Felix simply rolled his eyes. Annette supposed it was lucky that Dorothea was still assisting their class on missions since they would otherwise have an odd number that would make pairing off rather awkward. 

“Ashe and Ingrid, I trust you can handle the entrance to the Holy Mausoleum,” Professor Byleth went on, not noticing the reactions happening behind her turned back. “I’ll take Dimitri with me to guard Lady Rhea for the day. That only leaves Annette and Felix to patrol the main entrance.”

Mercedes turned in her seat and smiled benevolently at Annette. She returned the smile awkwardly and chanced a glance to her right just in time to catch Felix elbowing Sylvain forcefully in the ribs. The redhead fell over in his seat, clutching his side and swearing profusely under his breath. Hearing the commotion, Professor Byleth turned back to face the class and stared at Sylvain with a look of exasperation that mirrored Ingrid’s. She sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Any questions?”

“What is the plan if no one is caught during our patrol?” Dedue asked, ignoring Sylvain’s antics most efficiently out of anyone else in the class. 

“We’ll meet up outside the entrance to the Holy Mausoleum and descend down to investigate our suspicions for ourselves,” Professor Byleth replied. “We’ll have to play the rest by ear. Be sure to watch your assigned stations closely and send word if you notice anything out of the ordinary or need backup.”

Annette yawned widely. “The Rite of Rebirth is tomorrow,” she pointed out somewhat sleepily. She didn’t think there was much more preparation they could do during the last few minutes of class on the day prior to the mission. They would either be successful or not; it was too late to be second-guessing their plans or their abilities. “Professor, should we not get some rest so that we’re ready for our mission?”

The Professor nodded curtly. “Yes. Everyone, we will gather here tomorrow morning and we will begin patrolling the Monastery as per our orders. You should all know your partners for this mission, so be prepared. Class dismissed.”

\---

The day of the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth dawned sunny and warm, a perfect day for lazing around on the lawn with a good book. Annette woke at the sound of her alarm and stretched slowly, belatedly remembering that she had a mission and that Felix would be waiting for her. It seemed that ever since they’d begun training in magic lessons, Annette found herself spending more and more time with the moody swordsman. Not only that, but she was actually enjoying it now that he seemed to have controlled his more acerbic tendencies. She’d even heard fewer complaints about the way he spoke to others ever since their argument in the knight’s hall. 

Annette yawned as she entered the classroom to meet up with Felix for their patrol. “Good morning,” she said groggily and rubbing her eyes vigorously and nearly tripping over a desk in the process. He caught her arm to steady her before she fall to the stone floor. “Who put that here?”

“Morning,” Felix replied briskly as he gave her searching look, releasing her arm and stepping away. “You look tired. Are you ready for our mission?”

“I’ll be fine,” Annette assured him with another yawn and stretching her arms above her head. “How are you so awake? It’s so early!”

Felix shrugged and fiddled with the hilt of his sword. “I’m used to getting up early. I train at dawn every morning.”

“Every morning?” Annette gasped, too shocked to yawn at that thought. “You’re crazy.”

“Come on,” Felix said, ignoring her comment. “We should already be at the market.”

Annette nodded lazily and followed him out of the room. Felix’s dark hair was swept up in its usual bun and swayed as he walked. “I don’t think I could ever get up this early every day,” Annette said conversationally, silently admiring the way his hair shone in the sunlight. “I’m not really a morning person.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Felix said with a note of sarcasm. “Did you eat anything yet?”

As if on cue, Annette heard her stomach growl. “Not yet,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Maybe we should duck into the dining hall on the way and see if there’s any steaks or cakes, then,” Felix replied. Annette glanced at his face to see if he was making fun of her, but his expression was carefully blank.

“You were supposed to forget about that!” she said, poking him in the arm. 

“I told you I can’t. It’s too catchy,” Felix shrugged, carefully avoiding her eyes. She wondered if he’d even noticed that she poked him.

Ten minutes later, Annette had a basket with two freshly baked rolls, a hunk of aged cheese, several slices of bacon, and scrambled eggs in hand. Felix had grudgingly agreed to carry a flask of cool water for her since Annette’s arms were full. The food smelled tantalizingly good and made Annette’s stomach growl louder as they walked toward the market at the front entrance of Garreg Mach. She waited to dig in until they were able to find a free bench with a clear view of the market which was already busy with morning shoppers from the Monastery and nearby villages. 

Wasting no time, Annette set the basket between them and began to eat with relish. “This is _so_ good,” she said cheerfully as she downed a piece of bacon. She felt much more awake now that she had broken her fast. “Here, they gave me two rolls. Do you want one, Felix?”

He accepted it gratefully but kept his eyes on the crowd. “Thanks.”

“You know,” Annette began slyly, gazing at him through the corner of her eyes to monitor his reactions. “It was your turn to clean the greenhouse today, right?” 

“That’s right,” Felix replied without looking at her. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned the crowd for anyone—or anything—suspicious. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry about it! I took care of it yesterday,” Annette said in her most cheerful voice. She beamed up at him, hoping it looked genuine.

“Why?” Felix asked dubiously, still not looking at her. His long fingers drummed absently on the hilt of his sword.

“I knew we’d be too busy today for you to have a chance to do it,” Annette said brightly. “So, I thought I’d help you out and get it done early.”

Felix glanced sidelong at her. His amber eyes looked amused. “Professor Byleth told me I could do it tomorrow instead due to the mission.”

“Is that right?” Annette replied quickly. She felt her heart thud more quickly in her chest at this news. “Well, I guess you don’t need to worry then! It’ll be fine until it’s Dedue’s day to clean it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome! I also went ahead and tidied up the warehouse for you,” Annette continued with a wide smile that she hoped looked innocent. 

Felix did not look fooled. “Why would you do that?”

“Just to help you out!” she asserted cheerfully, folding her hands in her lap to keep them still. She had a lot of nervous tics that would probably give her away if she wasn’t careful, and fidgeting was prime among them. 

“Professor Byleth told me the warehouse could wait a few more days as well,” Felix said with a raised eyebrow. His amber eyes were focused on her now and she felt distinctly like she was under a very strong microscope.

“Really?” Annette squeaked, worried that her plan was falling through so easily.

“Tell me the truth,” Felix commanded in a harsh voice. His mouth twitched at the corners. “Why did you _really_ do my chores?”

“I told you already, just to help you out…!” Annette felt rather flustered. “Okay, fine, I’ll admit it. I’m trying to bribe you!”

Felix crossed his arms and looked confused. “Bribe me for what?”

Annette was sure he was just toying with her now. “Don’t make me say it, you villain!” she said in a scandalized tone. “I _know_ you know what I’m talking about! I’m bribing you to forget everything you saw and heard in the greenhouse the other week!”

“Oh, that again.” Felix shrugged carelessly and turned back to watching the crowd. “No.”

“You can’t say no!” Annette stuttered in a pleading voice. She hadn’t been prepared with a backup plan if he said no. She hadn’t even considered that he _would_ say no, which was evidentially a mistake on her part. “You have to forget about it! Right now, in fact.”

“I can’t. It’s permanently etched in my memory.” He sounded amused again. Annette was sure he was trying to hide a smirk which only sent her further into panic mode. “A mountain of sweets, and stacks of steaks and cakes.”

“Felix!”

“I’m also intrigued by those bear and swamp beastie songs you mentioned,” Felix went on as though she hadn’t spoken. He was _definitely_ smirking now, and probably planning how he was going to tell anybody who would listen everything he knew about her songs. “Oh, and those dance moves, I wanted to ask…was that based on fencing footwork? It was impressive—”

“Stop it!” Annette cried, grabbing his sleeve and shaking Felix as forcefully as she could. “You think you’re so funny while you keep a straight face and mock my singing and dancing! You _must_ forget about all of it. What if I take your shift in the stables or make you a _really_ nice steak dinner?”

“Why are you so worked up about this?” Felix turned back to her. His brows were furrowed with confusion again. “I told you, I thought your dancing was pretty—”

“Oh, fine!” Annette threw up her hands in surrender. Her voice had gone a bit hysterical again. “Be that way! You might as well tell everyone about it! I’ll just learn to live with the funny looks I’ll get from everyone. I can hear it now, ‘there goes that Annette, the girl with the funny ideas about food!’” She slid off the bench and stormed off huffily. “You’re the evillest of villains, Felix! I’ll hate you forever and ever!”

“Just make sure you’re keeping a lookout wherever you go,” Felix called after her in a tone that did not sound suitably contrite to Annette’s ears. “We’re still on duty, you know!”

\---

By lunchtime, Annette was sick of sitting guard duty by herself and finally decided to head back and join Felix again. He was sitting as still as ever on their bench, completely engrossed in watching the crowd of passersby for any indication that something was amiss. 

“Welcome back,” Felix said coolly as she approached, one eyebrow raised at her sudden (though inevitable) return. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come back since I’m the ‘evilest of villains.’”

“Well, I got bored,” Annette admitted peevishly. She carried her breakfast basket under one arm with a handful of fruit and two sandwiches that she’d purchased from a vendor on her way back. “You’re still the evilest of villains, so you better not forget it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Felix assured her dryly. He was eyeing the food with interest. “Did you see anything strange while you were gone?”

Annette shook her head and handed him one of the sandwiches. She hoped that buying him lunch might prompt him to rethink his refusal to forget everything he’d seen and heard. “Nothing. If anyone has snuck by us, I think they must be too well disguised to be noticed.”

Felix nodded silently and scanned the crowd. He accepted the food gratefully and nodded his thanks, but offered no promise to forget anything at all. “It is a little worrying, but no one is standing out as particularly suspicious. There’s nothing we can do except watch for now, and then rendezvous this evening with the Professor.”

Annette nodded and hugged her knees against her chest. “Say, Felix…were you humming my song again, just now?”

He glanced at her with an unreadable expression. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize I was doing that again. I’ll stop.”

“I guess…I could let you keep humming it,” Annette said slowly without looking at him. “As long as you promise to _never_ tell anyone about my songs or my dancing. Please?”

Felix looked at her with another unreadable expression. Annette was worried that he might refuse this too. _It would be just like him,_ she thought sourly. _He’d get a real laugh about telling everyone about my weird habits!_

“I promise,” Felix said clearly as he turned back to watch the people in the market. “That I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Annette beamed at him. “You really mean it?”

“Yes. But,” he added with a smirk. “I won’t promise to _forget_ any of it.”

“As long as you keep it to yourself, I guess I will just have to accept that. Shake on it,” Annette demanded, holding out her hand. 

Felix sighed and shook her hand firmly. His hand felt warm and strong in hers, and Annette couldn’t help but feel her heart begin to thump a little bit faster in her chest. Even after he let go, Annette felt like her hand was still tingling with a feeling she could not find the words to describe. They sat together in companionable silence for a time, broken only occasionally by Felix’s deep voice humming her mother’s old song. 

\---

The remainder of the afternoon passed slowly. If anyone suspicious was entering the Monastery through the main gate, they were well prepared to avoid detection. Annette felt her eyes growing heavy as the day wore on and found herself dozing off more than once. Felix didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care—because he never shook her awake. He sat like a tall, lanky gargoyle by her side and watched the crowd in the marketplace unfailingly. Annette had to admire his concentration which hadn’t wavered all day. 

Once evening fell and the marketplace was growing empty again, Felix finally stood and stretched. Annette—who had been dozing again—jumped in surprise when he moved off the bench. “Is it time to go to the Holy Mausoleum?” she asked drowsily.

“Yes,” Felix said as he adjusted the way his sword hung on his hip. “There’s no point in staying here any longer. Nothing has happened all day and the market is almost empty now. Anyone who’s tried to sneak in has already been successful.”

“So, we just need to have a good defence,” Annette said cheerfully as she stood and stretched as well. “I think we can do that, no problem!”

“Just be careful,” he warned Annette as they walked together into the reception hall. “I don’t want to see you surrounded again like you were at Magdred Way.”

“Yes, sir!” Annette said with mock seriousness. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry about me. How could I make sure you keep your promise if I die?”

The way to the Cathedral was still busy with worshippers who had been arriving to pay their respects on the day of the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth. Annette wove her way through the throng of people deftly as she watched for any sign of trouble. Felix loped after her with a careless grace that seemed to just come naturally to him. He kept one hand on the hilt of his sword as they walked, his amber eyes scanning the way for anyone who didn’t seem to belong. He was never more than two paces behind Annette. 

Upon reaching the Holy Mausoleum, they found everyone already assembled except for Sylvain and Dorothea. Professor Byleth had roped the entrance off to ensure that no other worshippers would be able to enter as the Blue Lions prepared to descend to the depths of the Cathedral in search of an enemy that they weren’t certain was actually there. With no other leads to go on, their only choice was to hope that the enemy was not expecting them if they _were_ there. Annette sidled over to Mercedes as they milled around and waited for the signal to begin their expedition. 

“How’d your watch go?” she asked in a low voice. “You guys were watching the west side, right?”

“That’s right,” Mercedes smiled serenely as she smoothed her skirt carefully. “Nothing untoward occurred at all. Dedue and I were beginning to worry that we had misinterpreted the note after all. But Professor Byleth seems convinced otherwise.”

“Same here,” Annette confided quietly with a discrete glance over her shoulder at Felix. He was standing with Ingrid and seemed to be discussing her watch, if their body language was anything to go by. “We sat in the market all day and nothing happened at all. It was so boring!”

“I suppose Felix isn’t much for conversation,” Mercedes replied with a chuckle. “That would make the day feel even longer.” 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Annette dropped her voice to a whisper. “I tried asking him to forget about…you-know-what.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful Annie!” Mercedes replied, clapping her hands together excitedly. Annette waved her arms madly in front her and made a _shush_ sound, worried that Mercedes might draw Felix’s attention if she spoke too loudly. “What did he say?”

“He said no,” Annette muttered with a frown and crossing her arms angrily over her chest. “He’s a villain, I tell you Mercie!”

Mercedes suppressed a giggle and did not look terribly convinced by Annette’s conviction on whether Felix was truly worthy of the title. “Is that so? What did you do, then?”

“It’s no laughing matter, Mercie!” Annette whispered shrilly. “But he did promise to not give my secret away to anyone. I made him shake on it!”

“That’s good,” Mercedes whispered back. She was clearly trying to keep herself from laughing again which did not make Annette feel much more at ease. “He must like your talents very much after all, just like I told you.”

“I think he’s just sadistic,” Annette said with another covert glance over her shoulder at Felix. He was staring across the Cathedral toward Sylvain and Dorothea, who were evidentially just arriving. “He’s just holding it over my head so he can use it against me when it suits him. He’s an evil villain, Mercie!”

“I’m sure he is,” Mercedes agreed soothingly and patting Annette’s arm gently. “But if there’s anyone who can handle a villain like him, it’s you Annie!”

“I hope you’re right,” Annette said in a low voice. She glanced over her shoulder again in time to see Felix smack Sylvain on the head. Dorothea laughed loudly as Sylvain tried to explain their tardiness. “I don’t want to be on his bad side again.”

\---

The descent into the Holy Mausoleum was cold and dark. Sconces lit the stairway, but they were burning low and didn’t let off very much light. Annette kept one hand along the wall to keep her balance as she walked arm in arm with Mercedes. Professor Byleth and Dimitri led the group while Sylvain and Felix brought up the rear. Professor Byleth had said she didn’t expect them to be ambushed from behind but had figured that on the off chance they were, Felix and Sylvain would be the best equipped to sound the alarm and initiate a defensive position.

“We’re here,” Professor Byleth said neutrally as she stopped suddenly at the foot of the stairs. “I can hear voices. Everyone, stick together and await further orders.”

The Holy Mausoleum was a wide space with significantly more torches to light the area. The room was too vast for Annette to get a good sense of the layout, but that seemed less important in that moment than the fact that numerous masked people were already inside the room. “Those aren’t worshippers,” Annette whispered as she squeezed Mercedes’ arm tightly. “They’re dressed for battle.”

The intruders in the Holy Mausoleum had obviously not been expecting anyone to find them here and were already moving into position to fend off their attackers. In the very centre of the room was a tall man dressed entirely in black armour sitting on a skeletal black horse that looked as though it was carved from obsidian. “We have visitors,” the masked intruder said in a voice that echoed eerily through the room. It made the hairs on the back of Annette’s neck stand on end. 

“Keep them away from the casket of Saint Seiros!” called a mage from the back of the room in a thin voice. “Death Knight, prove your usefulness! Stave them off while I break this seal!”

The Death Knight did not move. “I do not take orders from you,” he said in the same eerie voice. “Nor do I waste my time on weaklings.”

“We must defend the casket,” Dimitri said urgently to the Professor. He seemed to be quivering with anticipation. “It seems to be their true target.”

Professor Byleth nodded as she assessed the scene. The enemy was already approaching with their weapons drawn. “We do not have time to waste,” she said briskly. “Dedue, Ashe, Sylvain and Dorothea, you all go up the left side. Annette, Felix, Ingrid, you have the right. Mercedes, you’re with me and Dimitri up the middle, and we’ll swing to the right once we clear out the centre of the room. Everyone, avoid engaging the Death Knight at all costs!”

There was no time for further discussion of the matter. Annette squeezed Mercedes’ arm one final time before following Ingrid and Felix on their assigned route. She stayed behind them by several paces to ensure she had the space to cast spells without risking a direct engagement with the enemy. _I really should see if the Professor will allow me to practice white magic,_ Annette thought uneasily as she surveyed the number of assailants ahead of their group. _We’ll be in trouble if either of these two are injured while Mercedes is so far away._

“Ingrid, watch your left!” Annette shouted as they advanced. “I’ve got him!”

She reached for her magic and felt her Crest of Dominic activate as she launched a gust if wind at the spearman. It knocked him off his feet and gave Ingrid an opening to finish the job with her lance. It slid between the soldier’s ribs without resistance. Annette felt a small part of her mind freeze with shock as she realized that she had caused his death. _It’s either kill, or be killed,_ Annette thought bitterly. _Just like Felix said before. I don’t have the luxury of debating the morality of it._

“Annette, behind you!” Felix bellowed at her. He had disengaged the new solider that Ingrid was battling and was running toward her. “They’ve got reinforcements!”

Annette spun on her heel and stepped back. Four more soldiers were closing in on her from behind. She gritted her teeth and felt wisps of wind blades already gathering around her fingers. “Felix, be careful!” 

He didn’t respond as he leaped past her and sunk his long blade into the chest of the foremost attacker. Felix glowed with the light of his Crest as he landed and let the man fall lifelessly onto the stone floor. Immediately, the dark-haired swordsman raised his blade defensively as the remaining soldiers closed in on him. “Felix, duck!” Annette yelled across the room as she let go a blast of magic. 

Felix did as she ordered and dropped low toward the ground, swiping his blade at the legs of the three men. Annette’s spell hit the middle swordsman with full force; she could see blood beginning to seep out of a hundred tiny cuts on his exposed skin. He cried out in pain, clutching at his face desperately. Felix had no pity for him as he stabbed the man through the chest. He turned back toward Annette as he drew his sword out of the man’s body. “Go to Ingrid,” he called, breathing heavily and with eyes blazing. “I’ve got this under control!”

“Understood!” Annette didn’t argue with him. She knew he was skilled; a two-on-one wasn’t something he was likely to lose. 

Ingrid had already regrouped with Professor Byleth’s team when Annette caught up to her. “Felix is coming,” she reported breathlessly. “The enemy had reinforcements catch us from behind.”

Professor Byleth nodded curtly and signalled that they should continue to advance forward. “We’re almost to our goal,” she said. “Annette, stay back with Mercedes and provide cover fire as we approach the dais.”

The bulk of the enemy’s forces were broken now, and the remaining soldiers were beginning to scatter as they recognized they were losing the fight. Professor Byleth pressed forward unhesitatingly, striking down any soldier foolish enough to challenge them in battle. It was mesmerizing to watch her fight like she had been born to be a warrior goddess. Annette thought she could understand now why Felix was so interested in testing himself against the Professor; she really was a remarkable fighter. 

“It’s no use!” called the mage who was still standing in front of Saint Seiros’ casket and holding an ancient bone-like sword. “The seal is already broken. You’re too late!”

Professor Byleth had no hesitation. She rushed forward with Dimitri at her side, her own sword raised. Dimitri disarmed the mage easily and the ancient sword arced high through the air and clattered to the ground in front of Professor Byleth. Annette watched in amazement as the Professor picked it up and hefted the blade curiously. Casting her plain steel sword aside, Professor Byleth raised the sword and pressed her attack. The mage never stood a chance; he had no time to cast a spell with which to defend himself. He fell to the stone ground as if he were made of straw, his blood leaking across the dais. 

_It’s over now,_ Annette thought as she watched his blood begin to pool in the cracks of the stone floor. She felt drained from the day’s events. _There is no time for pity. It’s either kill, or be killed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing dialogue between Felix and Annette :) So I had a lot of fun with this chapter, to say the least.
> 
> My second favourite dialogue duo (Felix and Sylvain) will be featured in the next chapter, so stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, thank you to all my lovely readers. You make my heart smile :)
> 
> Love, Kami


	10. Waking Nightmare

The events from the Holy Mausoleum were the main topic of discussion for several days following the battle during the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth. Although the Church of Seiros wasted no time in publicly executing the Western Church officials who had been caught during the aftermath of the attack, they had refused to give any further details on who had been the mastermind behind the ambush at Magdred Way or the plot to rob the Holy Mausoleum. It was a vexing problem for the Church to know the origin of their enemy yet not what they next move would be. 

For his part, Felix was unconcerned with the mysterious enemy. He suspected that they would return in due time, so they need only wait for that to happen. As such, life at Garreg Mach returned to a semblance of normalcy as classes resumed and students went back about their daily lives. Felix continued his solitary morning training sessions and his evening magic lessons with Annette as they entered Verdant Rain Moon, and he was pleased to note that he was making good progress in both areas. Annette had even agreed that he seemed to have mastered the theory of basic spellcasting and that they would begin practicing the actual casting during their next lesson.

Felix felt like he was actually beginning to enjoy his time at the Monastery. He hadn’t expected to find it pleasant; he had been sure it would be a long year of tedious studying that could otherwise have been spent honing his skills back on the training grounds at Castle Fraldarius. His only hope had been that the swordmasters at Garreg Mach would be worth his time. Luckily for Felix, one of the strongest Professors in the entire Monastery had been assigned to teach his class, and he was afforded the opportunity to test his skills against her on a regular basis. Not to mention, she now wielded the Sword of the Creator, the legendary blade that was said to have been held by Nemesis himself. There was no stronger person to train against.

“Our next mission is to retrieve a stolen Hero’s Relic,” Professor Byleth announced at the end of class one day. She glanced meaningfully at Sylvain, who nodded curtly. “It has been stolen from House Gautier by a disowned member of the family.”

Felix spared a glance toward his old friend. Sylvain’s face was more serious than usual, a look that didn’t suit him. 

“We will be travelling to Conand Tower to retrieve it,” the Professor continued tonelessly. “The Church will be providing us additional support for this mission, just as they did at Magdred Way. Please prepare accordingly, as the mission will take place next week. Class dismissed.”

Felix shoved his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder with a casual grace. He kept pace with Sylvain as they headed out of the classroom into the overcast day. Sylvain was being unusually quiet which seemed to bother Felix more than it ought to have. 

“Spar with me,” Felix said as he turned toward the training grounds. He didn’t wait for Sylvain to respond.

Sylvain considered the proposal for a moment. “Sure,” he said in a low voice, following Felix across the flagstones. 

Several minutes later, Felix stood facing Sylvain with his blade outstretched. Sylvian held his lance at the ready. Felix felt a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he made the first move toward his friend. He raised his blade and swung hard at Sylvain, who blocked the attack with his lance with ease. Felix dropped back several paces and raised his own sword to defend against Sylvain’s oncoming counterattack. His face was thunderous as Felix parried the blow and stabbed forward again with his own blade.

It was a dance with which they were both intimately familiar. Felix had been sparring with Sylvain since they were children, and they knew each other’s moves better than anyone else. Felix had always been willing to spar with anyone but fighting Ingrid or Dimitri had never filled him with same fierce passion as when he fought his best friend. Sylvain knew Felix as if he were the brother that he wished he still had in his own life. It wasn’t a sentiment that either of them would ever voice aloud, but with the cut of steel ringing in his ears, Felix knew they would always be brothers in arms, if not in blood. 

They did not speak as they fought. Words were an unnecessary distraction and a waste of energy. Felix could hear what Sylvain wanted to say just from the way he swung his weapon and from the way he dodged Felix’s unceasing onslaught. Sylvain’s form was sloppy today and attacks were wild and uncoordinated. He was fighting with his heart, not with his head. In other circumstances, Felix would have berated him for it, told him how he would die in a real battle if he fought like that. 

Today, however, Felix knew better than to say anything. 

“Enough!” Sylvain cried eventually. Sweat dripped from his face. “I yield!”

Felix halted his advance and lowered his blade. He, too, was dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. “It’s been a long time since we’ve battled like that,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Sylvain agreed in a low voice. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Your skills are as sharp as ever.”

“As are yours,” Felix returned the compliment. “Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” Sylvain admitted grudgingly. “Thanks, Felix.”

He nodded silently in response. “I thought you could use it.”

They sat side-by-side on the edge of the training ground watching other students practice their skills. Most of them were unrefined and unready to face a real battle. Felix thought that most of them must not be from Faerghus; it was necessary to know how to fight in the northern kingdom. Life in the harsh environment was a constant battle of life or death; of killing or being killed. If you could not fend for yourself, you had no hope of survival. Even having a Crest didn’t give you a free ride in Faerghus as it did in other places; it might make the job of survival easier, but it wasn’t a guarantee. 

“He’s a fucking bastard,” Sylvain swore darkly. His eyes blazed with a fury with which Felix was all too familiar. It had been this way since they were children, after all.

Felix shrugged as he watched the students across the room practicing their sword stances. “Hasn’t he always been that way?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain acknowledged in the same menacing voice. “He’s always popping up where I least want to see him.”

“That’s family for you,” Felix replied in an equally dark tone. “Always showing up when you least want them around.”

“He’s always found a way to make my life a living hell,” Sylvain muttered in an uncharacteristically angry voice. His knuckles were white as he clutched his knees. “As if his misfortune is all my fault.”

“You know he’s going to die when we find him,” Felix said matter-of-factly after a moment. He didn’t look at Sylvain; he could feel his friend’s resolve radiating off his body like the heat of the sun. 

“Oh, he’s going to die all right,” Sylvain agreed bitterly. “Stupid bastard. He’s brought it on himself by stealing the Lance of Ruin from my father. He could have lived a simple, honest life if he’d just gone away quietly like he was told.”

“Older brothers don’t tend to do what’s best for their long-term health,” Felix snorted. 

Sylvain cracked a half-smile at that. “That’s true. They always leave their younger brothers to pick up the slack they left behind.”

They sat in a companionable silence as the sounds of steel on steel echoed through the training grounds. Felix did not consider himself a very sentimental person, but it was impossible to ignore the similarities between their families. Although they frequently disagreed on how to spend their free time, Felix and Sylvain had been close even before Glenn died. Sylvain didn’t seem to put the same effort into his training as he did when he was flirting with women, but he was a capable fighter and took the burdens of the Gautier family seriously. Felix didn’t necessarily share his other passions, but he did respect Sylvain’s resolve to do what was necessary, especially now when it meant he would need to kill his own brother. 

“Sometimes, I wonder what the world would be like without Crests,” Sylvain muttered, his eyes still afire with a smoldering fury. “Would Miklan have been the big brother he should have been? Would the world really be a better place?”

“There is no point in dwelling on what-ifs and fantasies,” Felix countered harshly. Sylvain had always had a bad habit of trying to avoid reality. “You’ll be the one who ends up dead if you start thinking like that in battle.”

“I know,” Sylvain replied with a ghost of a smile. “That’s why I keep you around, to give me a reality check when I need it.”

“You ready to spar again, or what?” Felix asked him pointedly. “I might just cut you into ribbons this time if you don’t watch yourself.”

Sylvain gripped his lance and stood again. “I thought you’d never ask.”

\---

Preparations to depart for Conand Tower proceeded quickly as the Church was insistent that the Hero’s Relic could not be left in Miklan’s hands for too long. Sylvain’s black mood persisted through the week preceding the mission and was beginning to grate on Felix’s patience. Although they sparred together more regularly than they had since arriving at Garreg Mach, no amount of training was enough to ease Sylvain’s mind before the upcoming battle. Felix supposed it would be difficult for anyone to come to terms with having to kill their own brother in a matter of days, yet Sylvain’s apparently inability to channel his emotions into a useful fighting energy was becoming problematic. His form was becoming sloppier and his attacks lacked true strength.

Unfortunately, Sylvain’s frustrations were not the only problems that Felix found himself facing as the Blue Lions prepared for their mission in Kingdom territory. To Felix’s dismay, his father had travelled to Garreg Mach on Fraldarius business regarding the stolen Lance of Ruin and had insisted that they also needed to speak of Felix’s future upon his return from Conand Tower. Felix always tried to avoid his father as much as possible, a feat which had been much easier since arriving at the Monastery. He had no interest in spending time with Lord Rodrigue, especially not to discuss what would happen to Felix as he approached manhood, and with it the responsibility of one day leading House Fraldarius. 

To cap things off on an already bad week, the knight assigned to accompany the Blue Lions to Conand Tower was none other than Sir Gilbert, Annette’s wayward father. Although Sir Gilbert avoided his daughter entirely (a behaviour Felix desperately wished his own father would emulate) during their travels, nobody could fail to notice the physical similarities between the two. Felix knew Ingrid and Sylvain had taken his warning to heart and had not spoken a word to anyone about what he had confided in them after their argument in the knight’s hall, but he was certain that even if he hadn’t said anything, they would have realized Annette’s relationship with Sir Gilbert during the journey to Faerghus. 

Annette had become quiet and withdrawn during the journey and made a point to remain as far back in their convoy as possible to maintain a distance between herself and her father. Felix strongly suspected she had not given up on her dream of convincing her father to return home, but rather that Annette didn’t feel comfortable confronting him in front of so many people. Now, confined to spend days near him and without the ability to confront Sir Gilbert alone, Annette tried to pretend she didn’t know or care who he was. Nobody was fooled by this pretense, but nobody dared to say anything about it to her face.

 _Family is more of a burden than a blessing,_ Felix thought irritably as they finally approached Conand Tower after several days of this awkward journey. The tower stood tall and dark against a stormy sky. Even the day seemed to reflect the general mood of their little army. _Sylvain’s spineless brother, Annette’s shameful father, and my own loyal-to-a-fault old man. None of them care how their actions affect the ones left behind._

They ascended Conand Tower in a tense silence. There was evidence of the area having been used as a thieves’ hideout for some time. Felix gripped the hilt of his blade for reassurance as they arrived at the top of the tower. Unsurprisingly, Miklan’s band of thieves were already waiting for them; they couldn’t have failed to notice a small army approaching over uncovered terrain. Felix privately thought they must be either very brave or very stupid to be willing to stand against the Church of Seiros in a fight they must know they could not possibly win. 

“We continue as we have in past battles,” Professor Byleth said simply. “Dimitri and Dedue, you’re with me at the front. Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid, I want you watch our back in case there are reinforcements. Annette, Ashe, and Mercedes, you stay between us and provide support as needed. Sir Gilbert,” she finished as she turned forward. “I trust you will lend us your axe on the front line.”

As Felix had predicted, the battle against the thieves was not particularly difficult. They were poorly trained, and their weapons were weak. Certainly, none among them had a Crest, or they would not be holed up in a tower like this with no escape route and fighting a doomed battle. Professor Byleth led their force forward without encountering any significant resistance or anyone sustaining serious injury, which was a great improvement from their last field mission at Magdred Way.

Annette dropped back as they began to round the final bend of the tower. “Are you okay, Sylvain?” she asked, her face looking pale and concerned. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

Felix privately thought that she probably _did_ understand how difficult this situation was for Sylvain, but she was far too kind to say so. _Her father doesn’t deserve her,_ he thought fiercely, with a glance toward the front of their army. Sir Gilbert hadn’t turned around even once to see if she was all right.

“I’m fine,” Sylvain said with a forced smile that did not reach his eyes. “How could I not be with a cute girl like you here to worry about me?”

Felix hit Sylvain’s shoulder hard with the palm of his hand. “Now is not the time for flirting,” he snapped coldly before Annette could respond. “You’ll die if you lose focus on your goal.”

Sylvain merely shot Felix a meaningful stare which Felix chose not to notice. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Annette said, ignoring Felix’s remonstration. “I’m sorry it had to come to this. Families shouldn’t have to fight each other.”

Sylvain’s expression softened. “I wish it could be different,” he agreed sadly. “But my brother brought this on himself. He doesn’t deserve your pity.”

“The Professor is calling us forward,” Ingrid interrupted quietly. She, too, had been unusually subdued during their battle. “Come, Sylvain. You need to be at the front lines for this.”

“Wish me luck,” Sylvain said bitterly. He gripped his lance tightly in his hands, trying to steel his resolve. “With any luck, this will all be over in a few minutes and I can go back to chasing girls at the Monastery.”

He stalked off after Ingrid, his back tall and proud despite the weight of bitterness on his shoulders. Felix felt a sense of satisfaction for his friend that he would not back down from the challenge ahead. Difficult as it was, the reality was that that Miklan’s death was now a necessity. They would need to make an example of Miklan so that no one else would wonder what the result of stealing a Hero’s Relic would be. It was a harsh reality in a world that didn’t have time for fantasies or ideals.

“He’s putting on a brave face,” Annette sighed hopelessly, her shoulders slumping under her own inner pain. “I hope he will be able to withstand the aftermath of this battle with the same bravery.”

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said with certainty as he watched Sylvain walk forward to face his brother for the last time. “This day has been a long time coming.”

Annette sighed again. “That doesn’t make it easier,” she said as she stared at the back of her father’s head. “Losing family hurts no matter how or why it happens.”

Felix glanced at her through narrowed eyes. “How are you holding up, Annette?” he asked seriously. “You haven’t been your usual self since we left Garreg Mach.”

“I’m okay,” she lied easily. Felix glared at her and Annette’s shoulders slumped further. “All right, I’m not okay. I’m hurting inside. It kills me to be so near my father and yet so far.”

“I understand,” he said, though Felix didn’t know if it was entirely true. “But you can’t let him distract your focus right now. It’s neither the time nor the place to pursue your goal.”

“I know that,” Annette assured him with a weak smile. “Ingrid and Mercedes have kindly been keeping me company as we travelled. It’s made things easier.”

“Good.” Felix stared ahead as they climbed the stairs to the final dais of Conand Tower. He could see Sylvain standing before his brother with his lance raised. They were locked in a battle no one else could quite fathom. It was the tragedy of House Gautier that they had two sons but only one with a Crest.

“The real question,” Annette said softly. “Is how are _you,_ Felix? Isn’t your father visiting Garreg Mach right now?”

His expression hardened. “That’s right. Did he say something to you?”

“Oh, no,” Annette shook her head. “I only saw him from a distance, but I’ve never actually met him. I just…well, I was thinking back to some of our previous conversations, and it seems to me that you have your own family pain to contend with too.”

“It’s true, I don’t get along with my old man,” Felix said with a shrug. “We don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. It got worse after my brother died.”

Annette sighed heavily. “I thought you might say something like that. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“You needn’t worry about it,” Felix said, drawing his blade in one smooth motion. Something was wrong with Miklan. “I’m used to it. Stay back,” he added seriously, stepping forward in front of Annette. “It looks like things are about to get more dangerous.”

It was hard to see what was happening from so far back, but it was clear that the Lance of Ruin in Miklan’s hands was acting strangely. It seemed to glow ominously and Miklan’s terrified screams began to echo throughout the tower. Sylvain had adopted a defensive stance as he struggled to maintain his position in front of his brother. Professor Byleth was waving the rest of the students to fall back. Felix heard Annette gasp fearfully as the Lance of Ruin seemed to consume Miklan entirely in dark energy. 

In seconds, a creature towered over Sylvain that Felix had never seen in his life. It was like a monster straight out the legends, with dark scaly skin and glowing red eyes. Miklan’s body and the Lance of Ruin were nowhere to be seen. 

“What is that thing?” Annette whispered in an awestruck voice. “Is that…Miklan?”

“Not anymore,” Felix answered in a flat voice.

The battle against the thing that had once been Miklan was far more dangerous than the fight against the thieves had been. It was completely bestial in nature, lashing out at anyone who approached too closely. To his credit, Sylvain never left the frontlines; Felix suspected he felt responsible for cleaning up the last mess that his brother had created. Felix stood at his side, unafraid in the face of death. Although not related by blood, Sylvain was as close to a brother as Felix had ever had since Glenn died. Sylvain had stood with him then; Felix would stand with Sylvain now.

Felix felt his Crest of Fraldarius activate as he raised his blade to parry a blow meant for Sylvain. On his friend’s other side stood Ingrid, her face a mask of a fury. She stabbed her own lance roughly into the beast’s thick skin. It howled in pain and thrashed madly, causing people to scatter wildly to avoid the blows. Their only advantage against the beast was that it was completely outnumbered. It was purely a battle of attrition that the beast was losing quickly. 

When it finally fell to the ground, the beast’s form seemed to disappear in a black mist, leaving behind the pristine Lance of Ruin and Miklan’s broken body. Felix clapped Sylvain on the shoulder. “It’s over,” he said quietly as they stared together at the remains of Sylvain’s older brother. Even for Felix, who not truly known Miklan, it was a painful moment to witness. 

Sylvain nodded and bent to pick up the fallen Relic. “Goodbye, Miklan,” he said softly.

\---

Felix swung his blade through the air as he moved through the forms he had long since mastered. The sword was a part of his arm, a weapon that would never betray him. He moved fluidly from once stance to another in time to a rhythmic song he could only hear in his head. Annette’s song had stuck with him since he had first heard it, but it seemed to become more persistent in his mind ever since they returned from Conand Tower. Perhaps it was because she had been humming it mindlessly on the trek back so low that only Felix could hear it, or perhaps it was because it was simply too catchy to be easily forgotten. Whatever the case, it provided a meditative background to his usual practice maneuvers, so Felix found he didn’t really mind it. The only problem was that it seemed to make him careless, so he failed to notice when someone approached during his training. 

“Felix,” Lord Rodrigue said pleasantly from behind his son. “May I have a word with you?”

Felix stopped abruptly at the interruption and lowered his blade slowly. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” he retorted sarcastically without bothering to turn and face him.

“I meant a private word,” Lord Rodrigue said with a glance around the training grounds. 

“I’d rather not,” Felix said coldly. He did turn then and met his father’s stare defiantly. “I think we can discuss things here.”

Lord Rodrigue sighed defeatedly and motioned Felix to a corner of the room. “I hear your studies are going well,” he began with a satisfied smile. “Allow me to offer my congratulations for your success at Conand Tower. Margrave Gautier will be pleased to hear the matter has been resolved.”

Felix crossed his arms across his chest. “What do you want, old man? Surely you didn’t come all the way to Garreg Mach to offer pointless congratulations.”

His father fixed him with a hard gaze. “We need to discuss the matter of your future and that of House Fraldarius,” Lord Rodrigue said levelly. 

“Not this again,” Felix spat, his eyes blazing with a familiar anger.

“We wouldn’t need to have this conversation so frequently if you would take your duty to House Fraldarius seriously,” Lord Rodrigue said implacably. He mirrored Felix’s stance and folded his own arms across his chest. “You are the heir to House Fraldarius, and well past the age to be betrothed. Glenn was engaged when he was much younger than you are now.”

“Glenn was different,” Felix snapped furiously. “He was the heir, not the spare. I’ve told you before, I have no interest in leading House Fraldarius.”

“Felix, you don’t have a choice,” Lord Rodrigue said coldly. “You cannot escape your destiny and abandon your duty to Faerghus and the royal family.”

“It’s always about the royal family with you,” Felix retorted savagely. “Never about _your_ family. I don’t give a damn about serving the Blaiddyd family. I fight for me, not for a boar prince.”

“This _is_ about our family,” Lord Rodrigue insisted, ignoring the jibe at Dimitri though Felix knew it must have stung. “Felix, listen to what you’re saying. You will inherit House Fraldarius and all the responsibility that comes with it when I die. You must be ready to take up that mantle.”

“That has nothing to do with marriage,” Felix argued back, feeling his chest begin to constrict with poorly concealed anger. “It only requires that I am strong enough to defend the kingdom when the time comes. Nothing more.”

“Who will defend it after you, then?” Lord Rodrigue pressed firmly. “If you have no heir, who will defend the kingdom after you?” 

“Whoever has the strength to do so,” Felix replied harshly. “Maybe someone with the same blind loyalty to the Blaiddyd’s as you.”

“I will not stand for this behaviour. You shame House Fraldarius like this,” Lord Rodrigue cut across Felix’s tirade with all the force of a father. “I expect you to seriously consider any betrothals we receive. That is,” his father added ruthlessly as he turned to leave. “If any woman would be willing to put up with your foul temper long enough to agree to a betrothal.”

Felix had no intention of considering anything of the sort, so he waited silently until his father left the training grounds. He wasn’t surprised that this topic had come up again; it was a regular point of contention between them, and it had been ever since Glenn’s untimely death. Felix wasn’t an idiot; he understood his father’s stance well enough. It was logical to want to ensure the continuance of the family line, especially one that was as important to the kingdom as that of House Fraldarius. Felix supposed he was just too jaded to agree that this was of utmost importance. It hadn’t done Glenn any good, anyway. In fact, that betrothal had only served to cause Ingrid an ungodly amount of pain and sorrow.

 _I’ll be damned if I put any woman through that,_ Felix thought savagely as he moved back into his sword stances. He could still see Ingrid’s devasted face when she had heard the news of Glenn’s death. Her haunted face, her broken voice; those memories would never fade. _Better to end our family entirely than cause anyone else that kind of pain._

Felix could feel his body falling back into the rhythm of the sword as he let out his frustration on an unfeeling training dummy. In the back of his mind, he could hear the same soothing melody that he hadn’t quite been able to forget even after so many months. He remembered how heartbroken Annette had been when her own father had rejected her not so long ago and could well imagine how she would react if she were to be betrothed like Ingrid, only for her future husband to die in a vain, pointless battle.

The image of someone like Annette going through that kind of pain all over again steeled Felix’s resolve to avoid any sort of engagement his father might try to arrange. _Strength is all I need,_ he thought as he moved according to the rhythm of his secret melody. _If I must lead House Fraldarius, it will be with my blade, not my heart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> I hope everyone has had a safe New Year's and wish you all the best in 2020! 
> 
> I started this decade off by writing fanfics, and I took a long hiatus while I went through school. It's been a long time since I've sat down to do any writing for myself, and this story had rekindled my love of writing. I've spent my break from work by doing as much writing as I can, and I've got 25 chapters done now, which is super exciting! I estimate we'll end up somewhere between 35 and 40 altogether. I've also updated some tags now that I've confirmed some of the other characters that will heavily impact the rest of the character's development, and I'll add more as needed.
> 
> I'm so looking forward to sharing more with you in the coming year! As always, I hope you enjoy, and look forward to the next chapter :)
> 
> Love, Kami


	11. Rescue Mission

_8 Horsebow Moon 1180_

_Dear Mother,_

_I hope you’re doing well back home. Thank you for your last letter and the package of sweets you sent—Mercie and I loved them!_

_I am really enjoying my time here at Garreg Mach, so please don’t worry about me! Everyone in my class is really nice and I have a lot of friends here. It’s completely different from the Royal School of Sorcery! I think you would like Professor Byleth a lot—she isn’t very talkative, but she’s so smart and kind. She helped me work through my anxiety after our first battle in the Red Canyon, so now fighting doesn’t bother me as much as it once did._

_That’s not to say that I like fighting or anything! Battle is horrible and I hate having to kill people, even when they are criminals. I wish that there was a way we could put these people on trial to face the consequences instead of resorting to bloodshed. Killing them is an easy way out but living with the consequences of your actions is so much more difficult. We wouldn’t need armies or weapons then—but I guess that’s a pretty naïve way of looking at the world, isn’t it?_

_As I mentioned in my previous letter, the injuries I sustained in our following battle have now healed fully. Luckily, one of my friends here was able to help me before anything worse could happen, and Mercie got me patched up in no time! I promise I’ll be more careful in the future._

_Unfortunately, we’ve been told that there’s a girl living at the Monastery who has gone missing. I don’t know her very well, but she seems so nice which makes me worry for her safety. There was no indication that she left of her own accord either. It’s really scary to think that someone would be so cruel to kidnap her under everyone’s noses. Our class has been tasked with tracking her down and rescuing her as soon as possible. Please wish us luck!_

_By the way, I have seen Father here at the Monastery. I’ve tried approaching him a few times, but he only brushed me off once and hasn’t acknowledged me since. I’m not going to give up for as long as I live, so I hope you won’t either!_

_I should mention that your songs have been giving me the strength to not give up on my goal. I find myself singing your favourite melodies when I’m feeling sad or scared, and it’s strengthened my resolve. In fact, that same friend who helped me during our previous battle actually overheard me signing your song! I was so embarrassed, but he said he liked the tune very much and that he can’t forget it. I told him not to let anyone else know about it, but really, I’m so happy. You have such a talent for composing beautiful music—I wish I had half the skill that you do! I’m glad I was able to share your music with someone else who can appreciate it._

_Love Always,_

_Annette_

_P.S. I hope you enjoy the enclosed cookies! Mercie helped me bake them so that they would be perfect!_

\---

Annette re-read her letter and nodded in satisfaction. Folding the parchment carefully and sliding it into the envelope, she reached for the hot wax and carefully sealed it shut. 

“Perfect,” Annette said with a smile as she attached the envelope to the box of fresh cookies. “I am sure Mother will love this!”

Clutching her package close in her arms, Annette hurried outside and past the fishing pond toward the marketplace. She was keenly aware that she had not written to her mother in far too long, so when Mercedes had suggested they do some baking to relieve some stress from the past several weeks, Annette had jumped at the opportunity to make a few extra treats to send back home. Mercedes’ baking was one of the few things that her mother was truly fond of nowadays. 

Outside, the Monastery grounds were a flurry of activity. It was a warm, sunny afternoon that would usually have been a perfect day to spend with friends after a long week of studying. Unfortunately, Flayn’s disappearance had changed everything. Annette didn’t know the green-haired girl very well, but in the few times that she had spoken to her, Flayn had seemed like a genuinely kind person. She couldn’t imagine what kind of scoundrel would want to kidnap Flayn, or for what purpose. 

“Our mission for this month is to locate and rescue Flayn as soon as possible,” Professor Byleth had informed their class just days earlier. Her usually impassive eyes had reflected real concern as she spoke. “It is imperative that you all keep your eyes and ears open for any clues.”

Annette hoped that whoever had stolen Flayn from the security of the Monastery would not return for anyone else. Without knowing why she was taken, it was impossible to know if any other students were at risk of the same fate. Annette was reasonably confident that she could fend off any would-be kidnappers long enough to make an escape or wake the whole Monastery with her screaming, but she really didn’t want to put it to the test. She didn’t like the idea that someone—or several people—were involved in a mysterious kidnapping ring that could avoid detection by even the Knights of Seiros. 

The marketplace was abuzz with activity and noise as shoppers pushed through the throngs of people lining the streets, haggling loudly with equally loud proprietors. Annette made a beeline to post office outpost to drop her package off for delivery, deftly dodging various swinging appendages and parcels. It was a very long way back to Barony Dominic where her mother was living, so the sooner it was sent, the sooner her mother could enjoy the treats. 

The red-haired woman at the stall smiled warmly at Annette and weighed the box. “Fifteen silver pieces,” she said crisply, holding out a delicate bejewelled hand to accept the payment. “For the length of the journey and the size of your package.”

Annette groaned audibly and fumbled through her change purse for the required amount. Prices seemed to be increasing lately, ever since the events at Conand Tower. It seemed that the roads throughout the Kingdom were becoming more treacherous with thieves hassling travellers more frequently and with greater numbers. Annette hoped that the extra fees from the postal service would ensure the package arrived unharmed. She hated to consider how her mother would feel if Annette’s message never reached her.

“It will arrive safely, right?” she asked anxiously, leaning forward on the tips of her toes to squint into the woman’s sharp eyes.

“We don’t make guarantees,” the woman said in business-like voice. She waved her hand irritably so that her rings reflected the light across the stall. “Sorry little lady, but there’s other customers waiting.”

With that unceremonious dismissal, Annette turned to head back toward the Monastery proper and go about her assigned chores, whispering a silent prayer to the Goddess that her package would be delivered without issue. She couldn’t possibly afford pegasus delivery which came with a premium fee since it was generally considered the safest, and fastest, service available. It didn’t do to dwell on things she had no control over, but one of Annette’s specialities was to worry unnecessarily, so she wrung her hands restlessly as she walked until she heard a familiar voice calling her name. 

“Annette! Wait up!”

“Oh, hello Sylvain,” Annette said warmly as she turned to face him. She tried to still her hands by smoothing her skirt. “What are you doing here on such a lovely afternoon?”

Sylvain ran a hand through his messy red hair as he caught up and bestowed a lazy smile on her. “We needed some new weapon supplies,” he said with a jerk of his head toward the blacksmith’s stall a little further down the lane. Annette leaned to her right to peer past Sylvain’s shoulder and could see Felix standing with Ingrid, both apparently engaged in animated haggling for the price of their purchase. “We figured it would be better to get it done now in case some lead turns up in the search for dear Flayn.”

“A wise idea,” Annette agreed. She could see that the others had noticed Sylvain standing with her. Felix shot a look of irritation in their direction and nudged Ingrid with his elbow, all the while staring fixedly at the place where they stood together. Annette couldn’t imagine why he looked so upset; Sylvain could be persistent when he wanted to woo a lady, but he hadn’t ever tried his charms on Annette with any great interest, so she wasn’t greatly concerned by the situation.

“Why are you here all alone anyway?” Sylvain asked curiously. He leaned closer as if afraid someone might overhear their rather banal conversation. “Shopping for someone special?”

“Not exactly. I wanted to send something back home to my mother,” Annette explained, trying not to focus on the intensity of his gaze. “Mercie and I baked some fresh cookies last night, so I thought it would be nice to send her some too.”

“That’s really sweet,” Sylvain smiled widely, though he looked rather more disappointed by her response than necessary. “Your mother is really lucky to have such a thoughtful daughter. Do you miss being home with her?”

“A little,” Annette replied honestly. She waved brightly as Ingrid and Felix finished their business with the blacksmith. Ingrid waved back and hurried ahead of her scowling companion. “But it’s more important for me to be here. She understands that.”

“I hope Sylvain isn’t bothering you,” Ingrid said tartly as she joined them. She scowled darkly and pushed a plain brown package into Sylvain’s open hands. “Didn’t you say you wanted these whetstones?” 

“Yeah, sorry for running off like that,” he said with a chuckle. He looked past Ingrid and grinned at Felix toothily, whose scowl hadn’t disappeared. “I just thought I’d catch Annette and say hi before she left the market.”

“You never could pass up the opportunity to chat up a girl,” Felix growled at him. His amber eyes were steely. “Maybe if you took your training more seriously, you wouldn’t forget your own purchase at the counter.”

“It all worked out,” Sylvain replied with another lazy smile. He didn’t seem remotely bothered by Felix’s sour tone. “Besides, it’s not like the Reaper is going to jump us in the middle of the day. I’ve got lots of time to go work on my lance.”

“The Reaper?” Annette asked in a tone of great interest. “Who’s that?”

Ingrid shrugged. “There’s rumours that Flayn was kidnapped by a man in a mask,” she said with a sharp glare at Sylvain. If looks could kill, Annette was certain Sylvain would have died in that moment. In fact, she had a distinct impression that Sylvain probably wouldn’t have lived to even attend Garreg Mach if that were the case. “But that’s _all_ they are. No one has been able to prove anything about the kidnapper’s identity.”

“There’s no such thing as a Reaper,” Felix added grouchily. He continued to stare directly at Sylvain, and Annette had a funny feeling that he was trying to avoid looking toward her at all. “No fantastical being kidnapped Flayn. It had to be a human.”

“You never know,” Sylvain said with a cheeky grin. “Neither of you have ever seen a Reaper, right? How do you know they don’t exist?”

“Because they’re fictional!” Ingrid insisted in an exasperated tone. 

“People have been saying the Reaper has been spotted in the villages around the Monastery,” Sylvain told Annette with an air of authority on the subject and completely ignoring Ingrid. “Always at night, and always on a dark horse in dark armour.” 

“What could someone like that possibly want with Flayn?” Annette asked faintly. “He sounds terrifying! What if he comes back for others?”

“The Reaper isn’t real,” Felix repeated a little impatiently. He continued to glare at Sylvain as if wishing the ground would open and swallow him whole at that very moment. “If anyone else is kidnapped, it won’t be due to an imaginary being.”

“That’s right,” Ingrid concurred. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground. “Sylvain, you had better stop spreading such nonsense. We don’t want people to panic. It could cause more confusion during our investigation.”

“All right, all right,” Sylvain said placatingly, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just telling Annette what I heard. We wouldn’t want any other cute girls to be abducted by a Reaper. Right, Felix?”

“You’re impossible!” Ingrid threw up her hands in defeat. “Come on, let’s go get your lance back into shape. Clearly you need some actual work to keep your mind busy and your mouth shut.”

Ingrid forcibly pulled Sylvain away from them, gripping his arm so hard that he actually winced mid-farewell. He stumbled after her golden braid muttering loudly about her busybody habits and penchant for physical assault of his person. Felix stared after them and shook his head disgustedly as Sylvain’s complaints began to grow fainter. 

“You don’t really think there is a Reaper, do you?” Annette asked Felix, a note of hysteria in her voice.

He snorted derisively and looked at her directly for the first time. “Of course not. It’s just a rumor some idiot made up to explain why Flayn disappeared so suddenly.” 

“Oh, good. I was a little worried…” Annette let her sentence trail off. She brushed a stray strand of reddish-orange hair out of her eyes, hoping to get a better look at his face to see if Felix was only humoring her.

Felix rolled his eyes and began to head up the stairs into the entrance hall. “Don’t listen to Sylvain,” he advised. “He’s always saying idiotic things like that to get attention.”

Annette glanced at Felix, but he continued to stare straight ahead. His expression was stormy, and he didn’t seem to realize they were walking in the same direction. “I wonder who did kidnap Flayn,” she said as they reached the top of the stairs. 

“We can’t answer _who_ without knowing _why,_ ” Felix said distractedly. He continued to head toward the reception hall as if he was on a mission to put a certain red-haired man out of his earthly misery. “Anyway, I have some business to take care of, so we’ll have to discuss this later.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t forget, we’ll meet in the training grounds tonight,” Annette called after him. Felix raised one hand in acknowledgement without looking back. 

\---

Dinner was a subdued affair that evening. In fact, meals had been quiet ever since news of Flayn’s disappearance had broken. The Knights of Seiros were working around the clock to locate her to no avail. The long tables in the dining hall were mostly empty at mealtimes since too many people were involved in the investigation to be able to eat with the rest of the Monastery. It felt eerily quiet in the huge room without the constant murmur of conversation to fill the space.

Annette sat with Mercedes and picked at her food unenthusiastically. Despite the assurances from both Felix and Ingrid, she couldn’t quite shake the fear that the Reaper that Sylvain had mentioned would appear at any moment to kidnap one of them. 

_Probably me,_ Annette thought uneasily as she pushed a slightly undercooked potato across her plate. _It’d be just my luck._

Noticing her friend’s downcast demeanour, Mercedes reached across the table and took Annette’s hand in her own. “What’s wrong, Annie? You don’t seem like yourself tonight.”

“I’m just worried about Flayn,” Annette spoke the half-truth easily, and gave Mercedes’ hand a tight squeeze. “I can’t imagine what Seteth must be going through. It must be so hard on him to not know what happened to his sister.”

“Yes, I know,” Mercedes agreed sadly, her brow furrowed across her delicate features. “I am sure that we’ll find her soon. With so many people searching, there’s no way we won’t be able to rescue her.”

“I hope you’re right,” Annette said fervently. She pushed a carrot around her plate as her thoughts wandered to the idea that the Reaper might come for her on the way back to her room that evening. The little hairs on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end, as though the Reaper was already watching her, waiting for his opportunity to snatch her away.

“You really should eat,” Mercedes said with a smile and withdrawing her hand. “I think Felix has been waiting for you for some time now.”

“What?” Annette dropped her fork with a clatter onto her plate. Looking up, she saw the dark-haired swordsman striding purposefully over to their table. All thoughts of the Reaper temporarily fled from her mind. In his own way, Felix was equally frightening when he was angry, and Annette had no desire to give him further cause to be upset with her. “Oh no, I’m probably late for our lesson!”

“Good evening, Felix,” Mercedes said kindly as Annette hurriedly began to shovel her remaining food into her mouth. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said shortly. He raised an eyebrow at Annette. “You don’t need to rush, you know. Although we _were_ supposed to begin training almost forty-five minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” Annette said through a mouthful of food. “I lost track of time.”

“It’s my fault,” Mercedes said graciously. She gestured for him to join them at the table while Annette hurried to finish her meal. “We were talking about the search for poor Flayn. Do you have any leads, Felix?”

“No leads,” he said pensively, taking a seat beside her and lacing his fingers together. “Just suspicions.”

“Not the Reaper, right?” Annette said in alarm as a piece of beef fell from her fork. 

Felix snorted and shook his head. “Of course not. The Reaper is a made-up figment of some idiot’s imagination.” He paused dramatically, though Annette wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not. “No, the most likely candidates are within this Monastery as we speak.”

“But who could possibly want to kidnap poor Flayn?” Mercedes said apprehensively. “She’s never harmed anyone at all. Not to mention, they would be risking Seteth’s wrath by taking her.”

“Exactly,” Felix said in a deceptively soft voice for someone whose eyes looked predatory. “What is so important about that girl that they would risk her brother’s wrath in order to steal her from right under his nose?”

“Doesn’t she have a Crest?” Annette interjected as she pulled a slice of pie closer. “Maybe they want to study it?”

“Seteth is known to be very protective of his sister,” Mercedes agreed with a note of approval in her voice at Annette’s suggestion. “I doubt he would approve of anyone studying her Crest. He doesn’t let anyone near her if he can avoid it.”

“Her Crest is likely part of it, if not the whole reason,” Felix concurred, watching Annette finish her dessert in record time. She couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disgusted but decided that she’d rather not think too hard about it. “That leaves the question of who in this Monastery would be willing to take her knowing full well that Seteth would launch a full-scale investigation until she’s found.”

“You said you had suspicions,” Annette pointed out, pulling a jug of water closer and refilling her goblet. “Who do you think is involved?”

Felix nodded slowly. “There are a few people here that are suspicious. The obvious ones are Shamir, Alois, and Professor Hanneman. From what I’ve heard from Professor Byleth, they all have alibis. Besides,” Felix added thoughtfully as he glanced between the two girls. Seeing an unused cup on the table, he reached and pulled it closer. “None of them have any reason to wish to make an enemy of Seteth.”

“Could it have been another student?” Mercedes suggested tentatively. “Someone young and foolish enough to believe that they can outwit Seteth?”

“Doubtful,” Felix scoffed. He reached for the water jug as Annette finished pouring her own glass. The tips of his fingers brushed her hand lightly as he took it. She glanced at him almost involuntarily, though he avoided her gaze. “Even if they did think they could succeed, who among the student body stands to benefit by kidnapping her?”

“That doesn’t leave many other possibilities,” Annette said dubiously. Her hand felt hot from where Felix’s touch still seemed to linger.

“There doesn’t need to be many. Few people in Garreg Mach would want to risk Seteth’s wrath. There are two people I suspect. The first is Tomas,” Felix said in a quiet voice. “Ingrid and Dimitri both confirmed that he’s been asking about Flayn recently. It doesn’t reflect well on him, given the circumstances.”

“Tomas has always seemed so friendly,” Mercedes said, sounding aghast. “Surely not him!”

“On the other hand,” Felix continued, narrowing his eyes and glancing toward Annette. “If the rumours of the supposed ‘Reaper’ are to be believed, the kidnapper may have hidden his face at the time. We have a professor here who keeps his face masked on a regular basis.”

The two girls stared at Felix in silence for several long moments.

“Jeritza?” Annette asked quietly. Felix didn’t seem to have any trouble holding her gaze now. His amber eyes blazed intently when she looked at him. “The fencing professor?”

Felix nodded once. “The very same.”

Annette did not know Jeritza very well since she didn’t partake in sword practice. He mainly hung around the training grounds, so she supposed Felix must be more familiar with him. The man rarely spoke to anyone, and when he did, it was in short sentences without any inflection whatsoever. He was neither friendly nor approachable. It was true that he wore a mask at all times, which Annette had always thought was weird but had chalked up to him just being a little bit different. Nothing to really be concerned about. 

“Jeritza…” Mercedes said quietly. She was frowning slightly, and her face looked paler than usual. 

“We have no proof,” Felix said, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. “Whoever it is has taken care to leave no trace of their actions.”

“Regardless of who took her, I hope we can find Flayn soon,” Annette said glumly. She sighed heavily, trying to focus on Flayn’s wellbeing rather than the tingling sensation in her cheeks. “Before anything worse happens to her.”

“I hope so too,” Felix agreed softly.

\---

It was almost a week and a half since Flayn had disappeared before there was any breakthrough in the case. Having completely missed one lesson together, Annette had been careful to ensure that the same thing didn’t happen a second time. As such, Annette and Felix were together in the training grounds practicing spellcasting when they received the news. The knights had been occupied for so long that they had the area to themselves, which certainly made the practice considerably easier. There was less of a chance that a misdirected spell would injure others in the area should Felix fail to properly cast it. 

“Remember,” Annette coached him in a firm voice, trying not to stand too close in case her heart started thudding too loudly in her chest. “You need to really concentrate on what you want to cast and where you want it to go.”

Felix narrowed his amber eyes and stared straight at the training dummy some twenty feet away. So far, he had only managed to create a few feeble electric sparks around the tips of his fingers. Annette had assured him that this was normal when one first began to learn magic, but he had seemed rather dismayed that it did not come as naturally to him as swordplay. 

“Think of calling thunder down to the earth,” she encouraged again. “Use your thunder magic to electrocute that dummy—oh, Ingrid! Is something wrong?”

Felix straightened abruptly as Annette turned to see Ingrid rushing toward them with her long, golden braid swaying behind her. Her face was bright with the exertion from rushing to find them.

“We’ve found Flayn’s trail,” Ingrid said breathlessly, her eyes were blazing with a fury that Annette had never previously seen. “Professor Manuela was found unconscious in Jeritza’s rooms in the knight’s quarters. There’s a secret passageway there that seems to lead underground.”

Annette exchanged an anxious glance with Felix, their first direct look since they began their lesson earlier that evening. 

“Lead the way,” Felix told Ingrid decisively. 

The three of them ran across the Monastery grounds toward the knight’s quarters without pausing to discuss any sort of plan or strategy. Staring at his straight, confident back as they hurried toward their destination, Annette thought Felix seemed surprisingly concerned for Flayn’s safety. Despite Sylvain and Ingrid’s constant banter with Felix about his cold personality, he seemed to care deeply for his friends. Indeed, Felix had always shown concern for Annette’s own wellbeing; he had never left Annette to fend for herself when she was in distress, even when he had only just met her. Felix genuinely seemed to want to help others when it was within his power to do so, even if there was no clear benefit to him. 

“Annette, stay close to me,” Felix ordered resolutely as they arrived outside Jeritza’s quarters. “The others have probably already descended. We don’t know what kind of enemy we’re facing.”

“Right,” Annette said nervously as she peered down the dark stairs and then back towards Felix’s face. “I’ll try not to be a burden.”

Annette though she could see the corners of Felix’s mouth quirk upwards, but the ghost of a smirk was gone before it had truly formed. “You’re not a burden,” he said brusquely. “But you don’t have the stamina to survive on the frontlines. Stay behind myself and Ingrid, and we will protect you.”

Ingrid was staring openly at Felix as though she had never seen him before in her life. Her green eyes were darting between the two of them as if she had realized something which had been eluding her for some time. 

“Ingrid, what’s wrong?” Annette asked worriedly, noticing the odd behaviour. “Are you feeling all right?”

Visibly pulling herself together, Ingrid offered a tight smile and nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m fine. Let’s go rescue Flayn. We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer.”

The trio descended to the depths beneath Garreg Mach Monastery as quickly as the darkness would allow without risking injury. The stone stairs were slick with an underground dampness that seemed to seep into Annette’s bones as they travelled further below the surface. Felix kept a fast pace, though he was never more than a few steps ahead of Annette and Ingrid. More than once, he reached out a hand to steady Annette as she lost her footing, preventing her from falling and injuring herself. Annette had a feeling that Ingrid was watching each interaction with interest despite the dull lighting in the passageway.

The sounds of fighting drifted toward them as they finally reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a poorly lit chamber that smelled terribly of mildew and rot. Annette could see the rest of their class just ahead of them, engaging in battle with a mysterious enemy that bore no livery. The thought of fighting no longer frightened her as it once had, not now, not after having participated in so many other battles where she might have lost her life. Not only that, but Annette couldn’t deny that fighting alongside Felix steadied her own resolve. He was so confident in his own abilities, so sure that he would always win that Annette felt like she, too, could share in that confidence.

Felix plunged forward into the fray without hesitation or fear, his sword raised to cut a path in which Annette could follow with relative safety. Ingrid supported his flank and swung her spear in a wide swath to deter any attackers from approaching too closely, her face alight with adrenaline like a Valkyrie of old. Annette knew Felix was right when he told her to stay behind them; she would be useless on the frontlines where her lack of armour and her slower reflexes would only put her in more danger. 

Instead, Annette provided the support she knew would be the most valuable, calling the positions of oncoming enemies and casting devasting wind magic to open opportunities for her comrades to finish the kill. The sounds of battle became a song to which Annette moved effortlessly, a rhythmic dirge to which she cast her spells, allowing Felix to swoop in for the finishing blow. They did not need to speak to know where to move, or whom to attack; it came as naturally as breathing. Any fear Annette had held before entering the battle melted away as she followed Felix’s lead through the fight, staying close to him just as he had told her.

By the time the battle came to an end, Annette felt like they had been fighting for days at a time. With her magical energy so depleted, Annette felt strangely like a husk devoid of any life inside her body. Her limbs ached as she sank back against a stone wall outside the chamber where Flayn lay unconscious and bleeding, unaware that she was being rescued. 

_At least we made it in time,_ Annette thought wearily as she dragged the back of her hand slowly across her forehead. 

She heard footsteps approaching her and opened her eyes just enough to see Felix’s tall form standing in front of her. He gazed at her with an unreadable expression, his own face looking hollow in the aftermath of the battle. Felix wordlessly stretched out his arm, offering Annette a plain flask with the stopper already removed. Taking it gratefully, Annette raised the water to her lips and felt the cool liquid refresh her parched throat just as rain rejuvenates a farmer’s field during a drought. She offered a small smile as she handed the flask back, careful to avoid brushing the tips of her fingers against his. 

“You had nice form out there,” he said in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper. Felix’s eyes held her gaze steadily, as if daring Annette to contradict him.

“I’m your girl,” she said with another smile, her own voice matching his. “You can count on me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) Poor Felix is still struggling with magic. Good thing he has a patient teacher!
> 
> Thank you, as always, for reading! 
> 
> Love, Kami


	12. Your Girl

Life at Garreg Mach fell back into a semblance of normalcy as a colder wind began to blow in from the north with the dawning of Wyvern Moon. Back home in Faerghus, the temperature would already have dropped significantly, and the people would be preparing for the onset of winter by stockpiling foodstuffs and repairing damaged homesteads before the snows began in earnest. In the northernmost regions surrounding Fhirdiad, including both the Gautier and Fraldarius territories, the people would be ensuring that firewood was cut and stored before the first frosts touched the grass. No one survived in the Kingdom without knowing how to prepare for, and outlast, a winter. 

Luckily, Garreg Mach was far enough south that the cold wouldn’t truly touch them until Ethereal Moon, and even then, it would not be nearly so hard as in the north. Felix considered this a blessing since it meant that he could continue to train outdoors each morning and evening with only a lightly padded leather jacket for extra warmth. He couldn’t deny that the cold also served a purpose during his training, keeping his focus on each precise movement rather than on the melody that played in his head on repeat ever since that fateful moment so many months ago. He hadn’t lied when he told Annette it was too catchy to forget. 

The unending song was only one of several things that Felix had been unable to forget, and it was the one the bothered him the least. The tune provided a soothing background melody to his daily life while he studied or completed his chores around the Monastery and, although he tried not to focus on it while he practiced his swordplay, Felix found he enjoyed it otherwise. It reminded him of Annette, and she was something he hadn’t expected that he would enjoy being reminded of so frequently. 

Unfortunately, Annette’s song wasn’t enough to help him forget his other troubles. The second thing Felix was unable to forget was the conversation with his father after the battle at Conand Tower. True to his word, Lord Rodrigue was sourcing potential betrothals for his inordinately stubborn second son. Felix had rejected each of the three letters his father had sent thus far without even reading them, pausing only to send a single curt message back home with his feelings on the topic. His father had not yet deigned to respond to this last missive, but Felix strongly suspected that this was not a matter that Lord Rodrigue would easily give up. Felix supposed this was only to be expected; stubbornness was a quality which they had always shared.

The third problem was Annette herself. This one was particularly vexing because Felix had noticed months previously that he was developing very bad habits of looking for her bright hair when he entered a room and listening for the musical sound of her voice as he passed through the halls of Garreg Mach. As much as he tried not to notice her, to not seek her out, it seemed an impossible task; somehow, it was as though he knew where Annette would be without needing to be told. An even larger issue stemming from this ever-worsening problem was that Felix also knew that these habits had not gone unnoticed by his friends, a fact which had only gotten worse since Flayn’s rescue the month before. 

Ingrid was neither blind nor deaf, a fact which Felix had taken to cursing daily ever since their last successful mission. She had seen how carefully Felix watched Annette’s every movement, ensuring that the mage-girl didn’t become injured unnecessarily or find herself in harm’s way during battle. Ingrid had listened closely to how Felix spoke to Annette more gently than he ever had with his one-time future sister-in-law. Nor could she fail to notice how he became startlingly defensive when anyone dared to comment on any of these habits to him directly.

“Focus on the task at hand,” Felix snapped warningly at Ingrid during his daily practice in the training ground one evening. He was gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles were going white from the force. “The Battle of the Eagle and Lion is next week, and your form is getting worse the longer you stand here interrogating me.”

Ingrid continued to stare at him menacingly and looked completely unconcerned with his insult. As usual, she had ganged up on Felix with Sylvain at her side, so he knew this was a lost battle, though Felix’s pride insisted that he engage in the fight, nonetheless. “Don’t avoid the question,” Ingrid replied in a deceptively mild tone that did not match the accusatory look in her green eyes. Sylvain stood beside her looking considerably more amused, drumming his fingers along his lance as his eyes darted between the two of them, waiting to see who would break first. “I saw Annette’s face today, looking like the whole world had come to an end. What did you do to her this time?”

“I already told you, I haven’t done anything to her,” Felix snarled in a dangerously low voice. He raised his sword and turned away from Ingrid in a desperate attempt to force the conversation to an end, but she darted around him easily. Ingrid was not easily deterred when chasing her quarry, a quality that Felix despised in her yet had come to admire in Annette. 

“I don’t believe you,” Ingrid declared as she swung her lance outward to keep Felix from moving away from her again. “The last time she looked like this, you had made her cry.”

Felix had no desire to explain anything to Ingrid or Sylvain about Annette, and doubly so when the issue involved Sir Gilbert, about whom he had already broken his promise to Annette once before. Indeed, he _had_ come across Annette the night before after she had tried to confront her father again, and Sir Gilbert had yet again ignored her pleas. She hadn’t cried this time, but Felix knew the rejection had hurt Annette again and left another scar on her already broken heart. The thought of this filled his chest with a righteous anger that he didn’t feel he had any right to act on, not when it was a Dominic family problem. As it happened, Felix had his own familial problems with which to contend in any case.

“Trust me when I say I haven’t made _that_ mistake again,” Felix responded coldly, raising his sword in a direct challenge to Ingrid. She was not intimidated, much to Felix’s chagrin, and pointed her weapon threateningly toward him in return. 

“Lay off it, Ingrid,” Sylvain advised, sounding as amused as ever. “I think if Felix _had_ been the cause of Annette’s sadness, he would have broken down already and begged for our help to fix it again.”

Felix turned his head to glare ominously at his best friend, but Sylvain only smiled lazily and offered a sly wink. Ingrid, for her part, did not look entirely convinced but lowered her weapon slightly, nonetheless. 

“You know, Felix,” Sylvain went on conversationally, leaning casually against his lance and speaking in a carefree tone that belied the sharpness in his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better—”

“You don’t,” Felix cut him off before Sylvain could finish the thought. He lunged toward Ingrid with his sword pointing outward, the steel glinting brightly in the sunlight. “You two will be a liability in our next battle if you keep up this ridiculous prattle.”

Ingrid deflected his attack easily, falling low into a stance with her lance pointing toward Felix. She thrust it forward and twisted to attack his open flank, green eyes flashing at him. “You can’t avoid this forever, Felix,” she said harshly as he dodged her attack fluidly, slashing his blade toward her exposed leg. “You’ve never been this kind to anyone since Glenn died. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

“Leave Glenn out of this,” Felix responded roughly as he raised his arm to block an incoming blow from Sylvain, who had just entered the sparring match. He had, in fact, been hoping they wouldn’t notice, but thought better of saying so aloud. 

“You changed after he died,” Ingrid snapped, completely ignoring Felix’s words. She stabbed her lance savagely toward his chest, an attack he barely managed to block in time. Her haggard expression was far too reminiscent of how she had looked after Glenn’s passing. “You stopped caring about any of us. Annette is the first person you’ve cared about in _years._ ”

This accusation was untrue, yet Felix was not willing to contradict Ingrid on it. He had cared about his friends ever since Glenn’s death; it was why he was here at Garreg Mach in the eternal pursuit of strength. The strength to live and to fight, to protect others with his battle prowess. Felix had no intention of dying in a pointless battle the way his brother had, and nor did he intend to protect a boar prince who had no business leading anyone. He would use his strength on his own terms, protecting those who needed it most. It just happened that Annette was more vulnerable than his other friends. She was not weak, but she _had_ trusted him with her insecurities and her secrets; Felix knew she struggled in ways that Ingrid never had, despite her own pain. Even though Annette always forged onward, Felix had an uncanny ability to see her pain and a baffling desire to protect her.

Sylvain slashed his lance at Felix half-heartedly, a wide, stupid grin splitting his face. “I don’t think I agree with you on that, Ingrid,” he said with a knowing look at Felix. Sylvain always had been more observant than anyone ever gave him credit. “He’s always just been better at hiding it.”

\---

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion took place on Gronder Field, as was tradition. Professor Byleth observed the battlefield before them in silence for several minutes while the Blue Lions milled restlessly nearby. Felix stood a little apart from the others and stared across the field too, pointedly ignoring any attempts to draw him into conversation. From the corner of his eye, Felix could see Ingrid watching him closely as she stood with Dimitri, as though she expected him to violently attack the nearest bystander. He could sense Sylvain watching him too from where he chatted with Ashe, his own eyes sparkling with some secret thought Felix hadn’t been able to decipher. 

As always, Annette stood with Mercedes, arms linked together and staring at the distant cliff overlooking the battlefield where the faculty of Garreg Mach would bear witness to the tourney below. Her back was straight with pride and defiance in the face of constant rejection, and Felix wondered briefly if he would ever be able to face his own father with that same sense of confidence. Discretely, Felix watched Annette as she leaned closer to her friend and whispered something in Mercedes’ ear. The other girl tightened her arm around Annette’s and whispered something back which made her smile. He could hear Annette’s silly song about crumbs and yums echoing in his head the longer he watched her. Felix didn’t look away.

Finally, Professor Byleth motioned for the class to gather around and explained the strategy she had devised. As with previous missions, she had decided to keep certain students paired together as a final test before their next reviews were released. Annette flashed a tiny smile at Felix as she joined him near the edge of the stream. He nodded solemnly, carefully scanning the area to see if anyone was watching. By the luck of the Goddess, Ingrid and Sylvain were assigned to the far left of the field and would be engaging the Golden Deer forces first. That left Felix in the company of the boar prince and his hound, with only the Professor to keep them in check. Mock battle or not, Felix felt uneasy fighting this close to the thing that was once his friend, knowing that the bloodthirsty creature he had become would never be sated. 

_Crumbs and yums,_ his mind reminded him traitorously, the melody catching his dark thoughts and gently tugging him back into the present moment. _Stacks of steaks and cakes…_

Felix shook his head roughly, his dark hair swirling around him like a storm cloud suddenly dispersing as the sun began to shine through. He had to focus on the task at hand, not on the boar or what he might do. What-if scenarios were nothing more than a distraction in battle, a sure way to die. Felix would not lose, he would _not_ fall, especially not in front of Dimitri. He would not be weak, never allow his personal feelings to cloud his judgement. He had someone to protect, and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he died.

_Someone to protect,_ he thought disgustedly, thinking of Glenn and his knightly death. _I’m not a knight, I don’t_ need _to protect her or anyone else._

It didn’t stop him from wanting to do it. He glanced at Annette standing beside him, her small frame looking strangely frail, as though a light breeze might carry her away. Noticing his gaze, Annette offered another smile. “Good luck,” she said cheerfully. “Don’t be reckless!”

Felix felt the corners of his mouth curve upwards before he could stop the motion. “I’m never reckless,” he said with an almost involuntary glance at Dimitri. The prince was clutching his lance with such force that his knuckles were white. He stared forward across the battlefield as though he could neither see nor hear anyone else over the rushing thrill of battle. The sight made Felix’s skin crawl. “But I’m not afraid of a challenge either.”

They moved out then on Dimitri’s signal, advancing forward in an orderly fashion across the stream and up the hill ahead. It was almost laughable how perfectly everything was set up for this re-enactment of an ancient, chaotic battle. Even now, the ripples from that time could still be felt as Faerghus and Adrestria existed alongside one another in an uneasy peace. This was nothing more than play-acting, offering little challenge without any real stakes. The best Felix could hope for was to meet someone on the battlefield who would offer some small test of strength. 

Predictably, the boar prince charged forward unhesitatingly, and his faithful hound followed at Dimitri’s heels, together plunging into a mass of Black Eagle soldiers. Felix watched them scornfully, knowing he ought to be with them because he was shirking his ever-so-important Fraldarius duty by _not_ following Dimitri’s lead. Even so, Felix couldn’t bring himself to fight alongside either of those animals, regardless of what his old man might say about it. Instead, Felix sprinted straight ahead to cut off the reinforcements who were heading toward the boar prince, his sword ready to bite into their armour. 

The Black Eagle students were more formidable than Felix would have believed, though he was certain that his speed and skill were superior. They had many mages among their ranks, making them easy targets to close in on and cut down. Rushing down the other side of the low hill as Dimitri looped around the far side on a more direct route to Edelgard, Felix caught sight of the healer Linhardt in his path and headed directly toward him. He would be a strategic soldier to take out of the fight, and Felix was pragmatic about these sorts of things. 

Felix slashed his sword toward Linhardt and the mage dodged swiftly, his expression more annoyed than frightened. He prepared a spell, white magical energy beginning to loop around his fingers like little iridescent snakes and stepped back. The spell hit Felix square in the chest and momentarily knocked the wind out him, though he was not greatly injured by it; lessons in magic had already helped increase his ability to resist magical attacks more effectively. Grunting as he steadied himself, Felix rushed forward again with his blade poised to strike into the mage’s thin armour. Linhardt fell to the ground breathing heavily and clutching the place where Felix’s blade had hit him. He glared reproachfully up at the dark-haired man as though the attack had been unfair. 

“Weak,” Felix said disdainfully, towering over the mage with a scornful smirk playing on his lips.

Linhardt forced a grin. “Pay attention, or you might find yourself dead, Fraldarius.”

Belatedly, Felix realized he could hear pounding footsteps behind him and turned too late to prepare any kind of defence against the incoming attack. He tried to raise his sword in a defensive pose, but he knew the axe would fall on him too hard to withstand it. Felix tumbled to the ground unceremoniously, landing hard on his back and losing his grip on the hilt of his sword. Caspar stood above him now, his axe raised to come down in a final blow on Felix who was still too winded to react in time.

A swish of orange darted in front of his vision as Caspar’s axe came rushing down. He could feel the force of Annette’s wind magic swirling around them both, pushing Caspar back and blocking his attack from falling. _If her magic fails,_ Felix thought suddenly, scrambling to his feet and tightening his grip on his fallen blade. _She’ll take the full force of Caspar’s attack!_

The force of Annette’s Cutting Gale spell finally forced Caspar off the ground in a high arc, his axe falling uselessly through the air and landing with a loud _thump_ on the grass a few feet away. Caspar landed much the way Felix had only a few moments before, groaning from the force of the impact. The wind had left a handful of paper-thin cuts on his exposed skin, though none were bleeding heavily. Annette was able to better control the strength of her spells than Felix after all her years of practice; she could control whether her attacks would be lethal or not.

“Gotcha!” she sang out as Caspar pulled himself into a sitting position. She looked immensely proud of herself. 

“Annette,” Felix said, his tone sharp. She turned, still smiling widely, and looking so cheerful that Felix almost didn’t bother reprimanding her. “That was foolish. One wrong move, one moment’s hesitation, and you would have died from the impact of an axe through your chest.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Annette replied, her tone still cheerful. She laced her hands together behind her back and smiled again at him. “The weapons are all blunted. We can’t die here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Felix glowered at her and folded his arms across his chest. “In a real battle, you would have died by jumping in front of a blow like that.”

“Well, so would have you,” Annette countered merrily, completely unperturbed by Felix’s criticisms. “You always want to be the hero, but you can’t do everything by yourself. You should rely on others more. We’re supposed to be a team, right?” 

“Besides,” Caspar interrupted, standing up and slinging a too-familiar arm around Annette’s shoulders. “I would never harm Annette!”

Annette graced Caspar with another of her bright smiles. Felix felt his stomach twist at the sight of them standing together and turned away coldly. “Don’t be reckless, Annette,” he said, striding toward the place where Dimitri had defeated Edelgard. He didn’t want to look at them together for a moment longer. “You don’t want to end up dead.”

“I’m never reckless,” Annette declared, shrugging off Caspar’s arm and catching up to Felix easily. “But I’m not afraid of a challenge either.”

\---

The celebratory meal in the dining hall that night was entirely too festive for Felix’s tastes. He sat moodily at the end of a long table trying (unsuccessfully) to block out the noise of his comrades as they excitedly recounted their overwhelming victory during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Sylvain had his arm around two girls across the room as he recounted his valor while Ingrid sat with Ashe and piled her plate high with food. Dimitri stood with his hound and Professor Byleth whose expression seemed almost fond of the beast. 

Felix took another sip of his pumpkin juice and glanced toward the end of the hall where Annette and Mercedes stood with Caspar, Linhardt, and Petra. Caspar was re-enacting his face-off against Annette with gusto as he mimed raising an imaginary axe and then being blown off his feet. Even from this distance, Felix could hear Annette laughing merrily. It made the music in his head echo louder.

“Not joining in the fun, Felix?” Sylvain slipped onto the bench across from him, evidentially having disentangled himself from the two girls he’d been chatting up. Felix merely looked at him grimly. 

“I don’t do celebrations,” Felix said coldly with another swig of pumpkin juice and wishing they served strong alcohol regularly in the dining hall rather than just on special occasions. Caspar’s arm was around Annette’s shoulders again. The sight of it made Felix’s stomach twist uncomfortably. 

“You know, you could go join in the conversation,” Sylvain suggested shrewdly, gesturing toward the group over at the end of the room. “Put your own arm around your girl.”

“Would you give that up?” Felix snapped crossly, tearing his eyes away from Annette and Caspar to glare instead at his best friend. His fingers tightened around the goblet of pumpkin juice. “There’s nothing between us.”

“Right, and I’m not Garreg Mach’s most handsome bachelor,” Sylvain said with an air of self-importance. “Felix, there’s nothing wrong with liking a girl. Just tell her.”

“You’re wasting my time,” Felix said sharply, choosing not to rise to Sylvain’s bait. He was quite sure that further denials would only make the situation look worse. He wasn’t like Sylvain; he didn’t have any interest in romance or chasing women. 

Sylvain laughed as though Felix had cracked a particularly funny joke. “You’ve been sitting here for an hour without speaking to anyone,” the redhead said after he composed himself. “You’re not that subtle, Felix. I’d be surprised if Annette hasn’t noticed anything. Though to be fair, she _can_ be a little oblivious herself.”

“I have no feelings for her beyond those of a classmate,” Felix said flatly. It sounded like a lie even to his own ears, and Felix had to suppress a wince. Predictably, Sylvain was not convinced. 

“Look Felix,” Sylvain said seriously, dropping his carefree persona as easily as unfastening a cape. “All I’m saying is that it’s okay to like other people. You can rely on us, we’re all your friends.”

It sounded unpleasantly close to what Annette had told him earlier. Felix drummed his fingers on the table and rested his head in his other hand. Ever since Glenn died and he had witnessed Dimitri’s boar-like persona first-hand, Felix had sworn he would never allow himself to rely on another person. It was too dangerous, not knowing if they would lose their minds to bloodlust or mindlessly pursue one single ideal to the detriment of those around them. It was safest to rely only on oneself, honing one’s own strength and fighting battles completely alone. Feelings for others would only get in the way.

“I don’t need anyone else,” Felix said quietly. He tried not to focus on the melody playing endlessly through his mind. “Neither you nor my old man will listen. I won’t be like Glenn.”

Sylvain raised an eyebrow at Felix. “Liking someone and dying to defend your king are two different things,” he pointed out, running a hand through his messy hair. “Glenn loved Ingrid, and he had no qualms about showing it.”

“Glenn died a pointless death and left everyone who loved him devastated,” Felix spat harshly. He could see Annette disengaging herself from Caspar’s grip— _finally!_ —and linking arms with Mercedes as they made their exit from the hall. “I’ll never do that to anyone. All I need is strength and I can achieve anything on my own.”

Sylvain sighed and shook his head defeatedly. “You know Felix, you don’t have to die to cause someone that kind of pain,” he said softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself in the long-run if you keep pretending that you don’t care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, this chapter is a little on the short side. I think the later chapters will make up for that since they're averaging a longer word count, but apologies all the same.
> 
> We're finally building up to more romance, so that will be fun! :) Jealous Felix is kind of cute, don't you think? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'll be back soon with the next chapter, so I hope you will look forward to it.
> 
> Love, Kami


	13. Desperation

Red Wolf Moon brought colder weather and sickness seemed to be on the rise amongst the student body of Garreg Mach. Annette had developed a stuffy nose, but it seemed she was suffering the least compared to many other students. Ashe had missed three lectures so far due to illness, Ingrid had acquired a hacking cough, and even Professor Byleth had been subject to weakness and fainting spells. In fact, the only two people in the Blue Lion’s class who seemed resistant by any kind of sickness were Mercedes and Felix. It seemed horribly unfair to Annette that her best friend was unaffected by whatever bug was going around, but she supposed it was because Mercedes was so good at healing that she had developed an innate resistance to sickness. Felix, on the other hand, was so grumpy all the time that Annette figured that even germs didn’t want to get too close to him. 

Annette was grateful for the steaming cup of Almond Blend tea that Professor Byleth offered as she arrived for her latest one-on-one. The Professor looked pale, but her hand was steady as she offered Annette a plate of cookies.

“I wanted to go over your most recent test results,” Professor Byleth said as she rifled through a stack of papers. She pulled one out with Annette’s name at the top and set the others aside. “Overall, I’m very pleased with your progress. Your magical abilities are advancing well ahead of many of your peers even in the other classes.”

Annette blushed at the compliment and busied herself by taking a sip of tea. She had tried studying with some other mage students when she wasn’t busy training Felix or doing her own chores around the Monastery. Her study sessions with Lysithea of the Golden Deer house had been the most useful so far, even though the style of magic they used was quite different. A little bit of competition was just what Annette needed to push her skills further.

“Statistically speaking, your magical strength and your resistance are well ahead of anyone in the class, with the exception perhaps of Mercedes,” Professor Byleth continued, scanning her notes closely. “You speed isn’t bad, but it could use some work.”

“Understood,” Annette replied seriously. She wrinkled her nose, trying to stave off a sneeze. “I’ll work harder at that.”

“Excellent,” the Professor nodded sagely. “There are a couple of other areas I’d like you put more focus on in the coming weeks. The first is white magic, as it would be a waste of your magical talents to keep you pigeonholed into anima magic alone. It’s always useful to have an additional soldier on the battlefield who knows even the basics of healing.”

“Absolutely!” Annette agreed enthusiastically. She reached for another cookie and smiled brightly. “Can I study with Mercie on that?”

Professor Byleth nodded and made a note on the parchment. “Yes, I think that would be ideal,” she said slowly, the tip of the quill brushing against her chin. “I don’t want to turn you into a main healer for our class but having a secondary healer will definitely help reduce the possibility that we will suffer fatalities. I think this will provide Mercedes with much-needed support on the healing front.”

She paused to look over her notes once more and set the quill down on the table. Professor Byleth sipped her own tea and sighed. “I _am_ concerned about your physical strength and defence,” she said gently, though her eyes held Annette’s gaze firmly. “I know you’re a mage at heart, but if you were to be hit by a melee attack, I fear you would not be able to withstand it.”

Annette nodded slowly and remembered how Felix had admonished her at the end of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion for precisely that reason. “Won’t correcting my speed and reaction time fix that possibility?” she asked quickly. “Then I can avoid any oncoming attacks.”

The other woman pursed her lips as if considering the thought, and then shook her head. “It can help,” Professor Byleth acknowledged as she reached for a cookie. “But you can only dodge so quickly, and if you fail, you will be in danger.”

“I’ll be in the backlines though,” Annette said, reaching for her tea and watching the Professor closely. “I should be safe from attacks like that.”

To Annette’s surprise, Professor Byleth actually chuckled at that. “Given how you rushed to the front line to defend Felix during our last battle,” she said pointedly with a small smile. “I would say you’re in more danger from those kinds of attacks than you think. Besides, if the enemy sends reinforcements behind us, you’ll be vulnerable to them in the backline.”

Annette wished Professor Byleth hadn’t brought up the situation with Felix. He had seemed distant from her ever since it happened, despite their continued lessons in magic. “What should I do, then?” she asked, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. 

“I’m going to have you pair up with Dedue during our investigation in Remire Village,” she said promptly, as though she had been expecting this question. Annette blinked in astonishment. It had been a long time now since Professor Byleth had paired her to fight with someone other than sour-faced Felix. 

“Why Dedue?” Annette asked cautiously. It wasn’t quite the question that she wanted to ask, but Annette thought it would be too revealing to ask in a more direct way why she wasn’t working with Felix this time. “He typically fights alongside Prince Dimitri.” 

“And he will continue to do so,” Professor Byleth affirmed with a nod. She reached for the teapot and poured Annette another cup. “You will accompany them both on our next mission. Dedue has a good knowledge of self-defence tactics which you may be able to put to use if you find yourself in a bind.”

“I see,” Annette took a long sip of tea and set the cup gently back onto its saucer. “I hope I will be able to live up to your expectations.”

Professor Byleth chuckled again. She seemed to be showing more emotion lately, as if being surrounded by all the students was beginning to rub off on her usually stoic personality. “I have no doubt you will,” she replied, brushing a strand of sea-blue hair out of her eyes. “Do not fear, I don’t believe this will be a permanent change. I’d still like you to continue training Felix in magic, and I expect I will ask you to work closely together again in the future.”

“Oh,” Annette stammered, hastily reaching for her tea to cover the involuntary start she gave when Professor Byleth mentioned his name. “That’s not a problem. I’m not concerned, I’m happy to work with anyone!”

Professor Byleth smiled more widely than she had ever seen before. There was a shadow of power in that look, something that seemed beyond Annette’s comprehension. “Do be careful during the next mission,” she said nonchalantly and taking a sip of her tea. “I believe Mercedes would not be the only person concerned for you if you were to be injured.”

\---

The following afternoon, Annette joined Mercedes in the Cathedral to practice white magic. Her cold seemed to be getting worse, though she tried not to let on how weak she was feeling to her friend. The Professor had tasked her with learning healing spells with Mercedes, so Annette wanted to begin as soon as possible so that she could help her in the upcoming mission. It was no secret that Mercedes had been struggling lately to keep up with the sheer amount of healing necessary after each of their battles. The Blue Lions were exceptionally well-trained, but they were still young and fallible; everyone had taken injuries that they ought to have avoided in addition to the many that they could not.

Suppressing a shiver as she took a seat beside Mercedes, Annette felt her nose twitch at the smell of freshly baked cinnamon apple muffins. She wished she had thought to bring a cloak to wear over her school uniform, but the thought hadn’t crossed her mind as she’d rushed out the door to arrive in time for their meeting. Mercedes held the basket of muffins out for Annette to take one, though she pinned Annette with a suspicious gaze as she settled herself in the pew. 

“It’s delicious,” Annette moaned through a mouthful of apple. “Mercie, your baking is to die for!” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said sweetly, though she still was watching her closely. “How could anyone enjoy it if they died?”

“ _I’m_ not going to die,” Annette vowed as she took another bite of the muffin. It melted perfectly in her mouth, a taste of true paradise. “I can’t leave your baking behind.”

“Then you had best be careful when we go into battle,” Mercedes teased, ruffling Annette’s hair affectionately. “I’m planning on baking brownies after our next mission. It would be a shame if you aren’t around to have any.”

“Where do we start, Mercie?” she asked with a smile, changing the subject to the topic at hand. She tried to suppress another shiver. It wouldn’t do to make Mercedes worry for her health and put off their lessons, not when it was so critical for Annette to learn it. “Professor Byleth wants me to learn white magic so I can help you with healing the wounded in battle.”

“I’m so glad,” Mercedes said kindly, folding her hands in her lap and looking as serene as a pool of still water. “You have just the right personality for healing.”

“What do you mean by that?” Annette asked with interest. She leaned forward and took another bite of muffin. Despite their many years of friendship, Annette had not learned very much about white magic since her focus had always been on offensive spellcasting. She had shared some classes with Mercedes at the Royal School of Sorcery, but their disciplines had required different credits, so much of their time together was spent studying for different exams. 

“White magic is not as complex as anima magic,” Mercedes told her, brushing a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “With your magic, you need to understand formulas and calculations, right? But for healing, the power comes from the strength of your desire to help someone else in need.”

“Does that mean anyone could learn to heal?” Annette asked, tilting her head and trying to imagine someone like Felix using white magic. She tried to envision him wearing a priest’s robes but the perpetual scowl he seemed to wear didn’t really fit the picture. Nevertheless, the mental image made her smile.

“Theoretically, yes. Though, it would be more difficult for people who lack an aptitude for magic in general,” Mercedes explained with a smile of her own. “But you have a very caring heart Annie. I am sure you will have no trouble learning this branch of magic.”

“So how do you do it?” Annette asked. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a cough and Mercedes raised her eyebrows inquiringly at her. “What’s the first step to healing?”

“Annie, are you sure you’re well enough for this?” Mercedes interrupted, ignoring the question entirely. “You don’t look well at all.”

Annette nodded her head enthusiastically despite how it seemed to ache slightly. “Oh, I’m fine. Just had a tickle in my throat, that’s all,” she said quickly. The skin on her arms prickled with goosebumps, and Annette was immensely glad for her long sleeves to hide them from Mercedes’ prying eyes.

Mercedes did not look convinced despite Annette’s bright smile, but she made no more protests. She sat back and considered her friend for a long moment. “The first step is to reach for the magic within you,” Mercedes began quietly, closing her eyes and raising her face upward toward the vaulted ceiling. 

Annette mimicked her friend’s posture and closed her eyes. Anima magic wasn’t quite the same; one had to reach for their magical power, but it was more controlled. You just needed to channel the power at a target and release the full force of the energy. Certainly, there was more to it, but in a nutshell, it was easy: channel magic, acquire a target, release magic, and defeat the enemy. It was simple despite the complex calculations and incantations that spells required. White magic, on the other hand, felt more abstract which made it all the more difficult to grasp. 

“Focus on your desire to help someone in need,” Mercedes’ soft voice drew Annette back into the lesson. “Allow that desire to push aside all other concerns.”

Over the next two hours, the two girls sat together quietly in the Cathedral to the background of a lengthy choir practice. Annette listened closely to Mercedes’ instruction and tried to reach deeply within herself for the healing power she described. It felt much more like a meditation exercise than a lesson in spellcasting but knowing that it would lead Annette to new skills was enough motivation to keep practicing just as Mercedes told her to do. Yet try as Annette might, the healing magic seemed elusive, hovering just outside of her grasp. Mercedes did not seem concerned by this lack of immediate success, insisting that it took everyone a few times before they were really able to put the concept into practice. 

“Sorry Mercie,” Annette said glumly, opening her eyes and blinking several times as she adjusted to the light. She sneezed into her elbow and sighed heavily. “I think we should stop here for today. I have to meet up with Dedue for some lessons in self-defence.”

“I think you should go lie down,” Mercedes told Annette sternly, her delicate features pinched into a disapproving frown. “Your lesson with Dedue can wait. You don’t look well at all.”

“I’ll be fine,” Annette said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Our mission is in a couple of days now, so I can’t afford to put it off. Don’t worry, it’s just a stuffy nose. I feel fine otherwise.”

Mercedes stared at her critically and shook her head. She smoothed her long hair between her hands, a nervous tick that Annette had noticed during their days at the Royal School of Sorcery. 

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard,” she told Annette resolutely. “Even if you feel fine now, you will end up sicker if you don’t take time to rest properly.”

“You worry too much,” Annette said lightly as she stood and smoothed her skirt meticulously. “I’m sure this will go away before our next battle.”

\---

Annette’s lessons in self-defence with Dedue went about as well as could be expected of someone who was rapidly feeling weaker with each passing day. She resolutely avoided admitting to Mercedes that she was feeling worse just as her friend had predicted and consumed as much herbal ginger tea as possible to keep her stomach from lurching too badly. Despite her best efforts, Annette suspected that Mercedes was well aware of her declining health because she took every opportunity to bring over a steaming bowl of fresh soup and lecture Annette on the merits of spending more time sleeping and less time in extra lessons, at least for the time being.

Dedue refused to continue their self-defence lessons after the first one because Annette looked too pale by the end of it and was panting as though she had been forced to run a marathon. 

“You are in no condition to continue,” he said in an implacable tone, his eyes sizing her up critically. As if on cue, she sneezed violently. “Go to your room and rest. You will not be able to participate in the mission if you are ill.”

Felix also flatly refused to participate in any further magic lessons until she was well again. Granted, he had already been distant with her since the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, but Annette thought he might genuinely be concerned for her health underneath his unfriendly exterior. 

“You should tell Professor Byleth that you won’t be able to deploy to Remire Village,” he told Annette point-blank after escorting her back to her room late in following the evening. He had lent her his jacket for the cold walk back from the library and Annette was somewhat disappointed that her stuffy nose did not allow her to enjoy his scent. “You’ll be a burden if you’re not able to take care of yourself in battle.”

Annette, however, was not so easily swayed. She did not want to miss the mission, knowing that there was to be a contingent of the Knights of Seiros accompanying them again. Professor Byleth had already told them it would be led by her father, the legendary Jeralt Eisner, but Annette couldn’t help but hope that her own father would also be joining the campaign. If he did, she may have an opportunity to confront him in a place where he could not easily avoid her. He would _have_ to talk to her; surely, he would not want others to witness Annette’s desperate pleas or his formal indifference to her presence. She had missed her chance on the way to Conand Tower for fear of others overhearing their conversation, but she had since changed her mind on the matter and decided it would be worth a shot if they went into battle together again.

On the day of their mission, Annette’s health had still not improved but she was determined to see the mission through to the end. The weather was cold and dreary, threatening rain later in the day. Mercedes looked disapproving at Annette’s insistence that she accompany the class on their mission but gave up trying to dissuade her, saying “You’ll just have to learn to take better care of yourself the hard way.”

To Annette’s disappointment, her father was not joining the contingent of Knights that Captain Jeralt was leading with them to Remire Village. Thus, although the journey from Garreg Mach was not long, Annette began to acknowledge inwardly that participating in this mission really was a bad idea, and she was likely only to end up worse for wear if she managed to get through it without injury. Mercedes travelled beside her for moral support, but in the field her friend had few ways to make the journey more comfortable or to ease Annette’s discomfort. For his part, Felix said nothing, instead choosing to shoot a handful of obviously critical looks toward her. It made Annette feel worse and a wave of dizziness made the world lurch uncomfortably around her.

Remire Village was small, nestled in a tiny valley only a few hours’ ride away from the Monastery. It might have been quaint if the buildings weren’t burning and the inhabitants screaming as they ran through the streets. Black smoke obscured the sky above and filled Annette’s nostrils with the stench of scorched flesh. The scene was like a vision from a nightmare and the sight of dead bodies in the streets made Annette’s stomach twist uncomfortably, bringing with it a fresh wave of nausea. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her poor health or the state of the village itself.

_These poor people,_ she thought sadly. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she glanced around the scene. _I have to help them!_

She walked forward on unsteady legs and covered her mouth with her arm as a fresh blast of smoke caused her to begin coughing again. Her friends looked over at the sound, and Dedue stepped forward. 

“Annette,” he said in his deep, soothing voice. “You must not participate in this battle. You are not well.”

“I…I have to,” Annette insisted, shaking of Mercedes’ gentle hands as she tried to pull her back. “There’s no one else here to take my place if I sit out.”

“We will be fine,” Dedue assured her implacably, folding his arms across his broad chest and frowning deeply at her. “I fear you will not be able to keep up with us, and you will be in more danger.”

“Agreed,” Felix said more harshly. He came and stood beside Dedue and Dimitri looking angry. “You will only cause us more trouble. You could die here if you fight like this.”

The words hurt more than what Dedue had said, and Annette felt her own face heating up. Felix scowled at her, and she glared back, although the effect was somewhat ruined by the way she sneezed and stumbled forward. Dedue steadied her as she swayed and firmly steered her back to the convoy where Professor Byleth was still conferring with Captain Jeralt. They broke off their conversation and sized Annette up with one terse glance. Professor Byleth shook her head just as Annette opened her mouth to speak.

“You can’t fight,” she said decisively, hands on her hips. “You are unwell. If you are not well enough to look out for yourself, you will only be a liability to the team.”

The Professor swept past with Captain Jeralt at her side, already shouting orders to the others. Dedue helped Annette onto the back end of an open wagon and handed her a flask of water that hung at his side. Annette thought that he looked regretful as he ensured she was comfortable.

“I am sorry,” he said, his deep voice soothing to Annette’s ears. “I do not wish to see you injured here. Please, stay back and rest.”

“I want to help,” Annette said as he hurried to join Dimitri. He was already fighting crazed villagers in the streets who were attempting to swarm him. “Damn it…I hate being useless like this.”

Annette sat on the edge of the wagon and watched the slaughter of Remire Village in silence. She watched Dimitri range ahead like a shaggy lion, his lance glinting in the light of the burning village as he cut down his assailants one by one. A distant part of Annette worried that he would injure innocent villagers with his wild attacks, but the rest of her was too exhausted to think very hard about it. Dedue follow him obediently, fighting with fist and foot to defend the prince’s back. Felix and Sylvain were forcing their way up the centre lane of the village, and she thought she saw Felix throw a glance over his shoulder from time to time as if to make sure she hadn’t moved from her perch. It might have been flattering if she wasn’t so frustrated with the situation.

_I insisted on coming,_ Annette thought glumly. The wind made her shiver violently, but she tried to ignore it. _I can’t let them fight without me. It’s not fair, not after I caused all this trouble._

She slid off the wagon and felt the world sway dangerously around her as her feet hit the ground. Gritting her teeth and leaving the flask of water behind, Annette began to step forward through the burning square, stepping carefully past the bodies of the dead. She felt like she was living in a fog, following vaguely in the direction that she had last seen Dedue. The smoke was too thick to see anyone clearly, but she kept moving despite how her legs began to shake.

_I need to reach them,_ she thought anxiously, wiping sweat from her brow before it could cloud her vision further. _They might need magic to take down the foe ahead. I can’t let everyone down now._

“Annette!” 

A familiar voice called her name, but it was far away, and Annette couldn’t quite register who had spoken. She lifted her head and tried to look around through the smoke, but her eyes were unfocused and blurred. There were footsteps approaching her from two sides, but Annette couldn’t tell if they were friend or foe. She swayed unsteadily on her feet as she tried to reach for her magic, but nothing would come to her now, not even the smallest blade of wind. Even her magic had failed her, leaving Annette helpless in the middle of the burning village. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to no one in particular. “I just wanted to help…”

Annette felt something hit her hard on the back of her head then and she knew no more of what happened in Remire Village.

\---

_Today's dinner is steak and then a cake that's yummy yum…  
Now it's time to fill my tummy tummy tum…_

The memory of her silly song seemed to call Annette to wakefulness. She groaned and shifted in the soft bed, slowly opening her eyes. Above her was a dusty ceiling that likely hadn’t been properly cleaned in several years. A slanting ray of warm sunlight fell across her bed from the window to her immediate left. She felt weak and hungry, but her mind was blessedly clear. The back of her head felt tender but otherwise, Annette felt more like herself than she had in a week. 

“Oh, Annie, are you awake now?” Mercedes asked from the table by her bedside. She was smiling kindly as she set aside her knitting. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure…” Annette said a little hoarsely. She dragged herself into a sitting position, fluffing the pillows up behind her back for comfort. “Better than before. My head is killing me though.”

“Drink this,” Mercedes ordered gently, pouring a steaming cup of tea and pressing it into Annette’s hands. “It will help with the pain.”

Annette obliged her friend without complaint, taking a long sip before she set it back on the saucer.

“Thanks. That really hit the spot!” she said with a weak smile. She paused for a moment before continuing with her next question, fully aware of the lecture she was about to hear. “What happened in Remire Village?”

“You were too ill to be there,” Mercedes said flatly, completely ignoring Annette’s question and launching directly into a long-overdue reprimand. “You should never have accompanied us to Remire Village, feeling as ill you did.”

“I know,” Annette replied in a small voice. Her fingers clutched the quilt tightly as she demonstrated an appropriate amount of guilt for her actions. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me.”

“It absolutely was,” Mercedes agreed with a regal nod of her head. She looked every inch the disapproving older sister. “Why in the world did you insist on going?”

Annette avoided Mercedes’ eyes, knowing full well that her reasons were illogical and that her friend would waste no time in saying so. 

“I thought maybe Father would join the contingent of Knights who accompanied us…” she said in a low voice and staring straight down at her hands. She could sense Mercedes’ hard glare on her, making her feel more foolish by the minute.

“Even if he did go,” Mercedes said sternly as she began brewing a fresh pot of tea. “You could never have accomplished anything in the state you were in.” She sighed and frowned at where Annette sat against the pillows. “Annie, it was foolish to go out on that mission.”

Annette nodded contritely. “I promise it won’t happen again,” she said, crossing her heart with one finger. “I’m really paying for it now, and I caused everyone so much trouble.”

Mercedes sat back in her chair looking satisfied that Annette had understood the full impact of her actions. “I’m glad you understand. Now, you will need to recover so you can give it your all on our next deployment.”

“Yes, of course,” Annette nodded solemnly and took another long sip of tea. Setting her empty cup back on the table as the fresh pot steeped, she tried asking Mercedes again about the outcome of their last battle. “Please Mercie, won’t you tell me what happened in Remire Village?”

Mercedes sighed heavily and shook her head sadly. “Well, we were advancing steadily and engaging hostile villagers as well as the Flame Emperor’s soldiers. Things were going fairly well, all things considered. They were being led by…” she paused and shook her head roughly, her violet eyes hard. “Tomas, the old librarian.”

“Tomas?” Annette exclaimed, forgetting the pain in her head and starting forward. Her whole body ached in protest and she fell back against the pillows uselessly, a fresh wave of nausea making the room tilt in her vision. 

“I suppose he wasn’t really Tomas anymore,” Mercedes said slowly, leaning back in her chair and looking pensive. “He was…different.”

“So, what happened to me?” Annette asked bitterly. “I remember walking through the burning square and then…nothing. Everything is black after that.”

At this, Mercedes smiled impishly. She reached for the tea and poured another cup for each of them without reply, dropping a small spoonful of sugar into each. Annette watched her stir them and wondered distantly what could have happened to make her best friend smile at her pain. 

“There were many crazed villagers attacking us,” Mercedes said at last. She pushed the teacup toward Annette and gestured for her to take a sip. “You probably didn’t realize anyone was near, but one approached you from behind and hit you with the haft of his weapon. It knocked you out completely.”

“So that’s why my head has a big lump,” she muttered darkly, resisting the urge to run the tips of her fingers over it to judge the exact size. Her hair was unbound from its usual twin loops and hung limply around her face.

“Yes. Luckily, none of the villagers were skilled with weapons, so he knocked you out before trying to attack,” Mercedes explained as she took up her knitting again. “So, we were able to rescue you before the villager was able to do any further damage.”

“That’s lucky,” Annette said, a note of relief in her voice. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days,” Mercedes said promptly. She gestured toward the table which Annette belatedly noticed held a surprisingly high stack of notes and cards. “You’ve had several visitors checking in during the last few days.”

Annette reached for the pile of notes and began to read through them. Predictably, the first one from Mercedes herself and Annette couldn’t help but smile, knowing that her friend probably hadn’t left her side at all since they returned to the Monastery. Although none of the letters were from her father, Annette had received well-wishes from Professor Byleth, Ingrid, Dimitri, Dedue, Sylvain, Caspar, Petra, Lysithea, and Marianne. Each note warmed her heart and served to remind Annette never to take such chances in battle again when she knew she was too sick to participate; she hated causing undue worry to anyone.

The last letter in the stack was unsigned, but Annette recognized the neat slanted writing immediately. 

_I told you not to go to Remire Village,_ the note read in a familiar acerbic tone. _I hope you have learned your lesson in recklessness. Recover swiftly so that you will be able to face future challenges with your full strength. You will not be able ensure that I do not tell anyone about your songs if you die from foolish choices in battle._

Despite the rebuke in the letter, Annette found herself smiling fondly over the little scrap of parchment. Felix was not one for flowery language or gentle words of comfort, but in his own way, he had been concerned for her and wanted her to live to see another day. She folded the letter neatly and put it back on top of the stack of other letters as Mercedes poured her a third cup of tea. 

“Felix carried you back to the supply wagons after you fell unconscious,” Mercedes said with a twinkle in her eye as she sat back in her seat and carefully looped her knitting needles through the yarn. “He has visited you several times since returning to Garreg Mach. Although” she added with a secret smile. “He insisted that I not mention that part.”

Annette felt her cheeks get hot and turned to look out the window in a vain attempt to hide her blush. A flock of small birds flew past, their white wings gleaming in the sunlight. Annette’s lips curved upward into a tiny smile of her own as she reached for her tea. Her chest felt warm, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the drink or because of what Mercedes had told her. Her heart was beating quickly despite her lack of exertion, and her hands trembled slightly around the teacup.

“I will be sure to keep that knowledge between us,” Annette replied softly, trying not to imagine how it must have felt to be carried in Felix’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I made some revisions to it, and I'm much happier with it now than the original draft. Not to worry, there will be some good fluff coming up in the next few chapters :) There needs to be some happy scenes before the war breaks out, after all!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! <3
> 
> Love,   
> Kami


	14. A Tie to Bind Us

Felix lifted a heavy box onto the stack against the back wall of the warehouse and wished that he had been assigned anyone other than Sylvain for a partner in his chores that day. He pressed his hand over his eyes wearily and, although he was not a religious man, Felix offered a prayer to the Goddess to deliver him from this personal hell to which she had seen fit to condemn him. Sylvain was a nuisance on a normal day, but his antics seemed to be getting worse with the onset of Ethereal Moon and the upcoming winter ball. In fact, Felix thought he might be one of the few sane people left in the entire Monastery as students began to prepare for the ball; girls seemed to cluster in groups in the narrow hallways of Garreg Mach while boys stood awkwardly against the walls as they tried to scrounge up the courage to ask a girl to go with them to the ball. 

Sylvain, of course, was one of the latter to Felix’s eternal frustration. Nearly half of their conversations seemed to revolve around the year-end ball and the topic had long since begun to wear Felix’s patience thin. He reached for a corn broom and began to sweep the area he had just cleared of debris, trying vainly to block out the sound of Sylvain’s constant prattle. Unfortunately, this was much easier said than done.

“I asked Lysithea this morning,” Sylvain recounted, holding a feather duster uselessly in one hand and staring off into space as he spoke. “She declined; said she wouldn’t go with me if I was the last guy in Fódlan. Can you believe it?”

Felix made a non-committal grunt and didn’t bother to turn. “Is that duster just for show, or are you going to help?” he asked sourly, sweeping the dirt into a neat pile and reaching for the dustpan leaning against the wall. “I’d like to get this finished before midnight.”

“So far, every girl I’ve asked has said no,” Sylvain sighed with a show of despair, though Felix did not think he sounded particularly concerned. He completely ignored Felix’s question and seemed intent on continuing to do nothing remotely useful. “What about you, Felix? Any luck getting a date?”

“I don’t dance,” Felix said shortly by way of answer. He had no intention of asking anyone to attend the ball. In fact, if he could have gotten away with it, Felix himself wouldn’t bother attending either. Unfortunately, Professor Byleth had already impressed upon the entire class that attendance was mandatory as it was a Monastery-wide event, and they needed to show themselves as a united front. She had made it clear that she did not want them to be outshone by the other classes.

“Sure you do,” Sylvain countered cheerfully, running a hand through his messy hair. He still held the duster in one hand and seemed incapable of using it for its intended purpose. “You had lessons as a kid!”

“I know _how_ to dance,” Felix replied through gritted teeth, tossing the pile of dirt into a wastebasket. “I choose _not_ to dance. The entire event is a waste of time.”

“Felix, I think you’re missing the point,” Sylvain said brightly, leaning against a wall and tossing the duster over his shoulder. It arced high through the air and landed on top of a stack of boxes Felix had organized earlier. “It’s supposed to be a time to mingle with the other houses, promote inter-house relations and all that. What better way to do that than dance with all the pretty girls?”

Felix glared up at the duster that Sylvain had discarded and gripped the handle of his broom tighter. “Sylvain, if you’re not going to help with anything, then you might as well just go now and find another woman to reject you so I can finish this in peace.”

“You wound me,” Sylvain said dramatically, not sounding remotely upset. He sauntered over to Felix and flung an arm around his shoulders. “If you don’t ask someone soon, all the good girls will be taken.”

“We’ve been through this,” Felix ducked out deftly from Sylvain’s grip and continued sweeping the warehouse floor. The light from the windows was starting to dim, meaning it was probably nearing dinner time. “I’m not going with anyone. I wouldn’t be going at all if I could avoid it.”

“That’s the wrong attitude to have,” Sylvain made a _tsk_ sound in his throat and wagged a reproving finger at his best friend. Felix wondered for what was probably the hundredth time that day why he still considered Sylvain a friend at all. “I’m sure Annette would agree to accompany you—”

“Cease your inane babble,” Felix snapped, finally losing his temper entirely. He shook the corn broom threateningly in Sylvain’s direction. “You know my stance on the matter.”

“—if you ask her before Caspar does,” Sylvain continued over Felix as though he hadn’t spoken at all. “You’ve gotta stake your claim on your girl before someone else does.”

“For the last time, she’s not my girl,” Felix growled, giving a particularly violent sweep of the broom across the floor and pointedly not meeting Sylvain’s eyes. “And I’m not going with anyone.”

“What a shame,” Sylvain sighed theatrically and casting his eyes heavenward. “Too bad, you looked so cute together when you carried her out of the battle in Remire Village.”

Felix didn’t respond to this bait. Sylvain had been bringing this situation up at every opportunity since they returned to Garreg Mach, so Felix was not surprised that he was trying this tactic now as well. 

“It is what anyone would have done,” he said coldly, still avoiding Sylvain’s gaze. There really wasn’t anywhere left to sweep in the warehouse, but holding the broom gave Felix the pretense of being busy. 

“Of course,” Sylvain agreed in a sly voice. He began ticking off his fingers. “You were awfully concerned while she was in the infirmary. How many times did you visit? Five? Six?”

Felix was aware that he was running out of excuses and that further denials would only feed Sylvain’s fantasy that he was nursing romantic feelings for Annette. Which, as it happened, he absolutely was _not._

“I’m not asking Annette or anyone else to the ball,” he said sternly as he hung the broom back on its hook. “Give it up, Sylvain. I’m not like _you._ ”

Sylvain only laughed heartily. “Maybe if you went with Annette, word would reach your father and he could arrange a betrothal you _would_ consider,” he said teasingly as he opened the door and headed out into the dying sunlight. 

Felix rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he followed Sylvain out of the room. Duke Fraldarius had not stopped trying to entice his defiant son with potential brides from a variety of wealthy and influential families from across Fódlan. Felix had continued to burn each letter in the fire and had sent only a handful of short rejections back home. He knew that his father was becoming annoyed with him (a common state of affairs between them, as it were), but he had no intention of backing down. Even if the thought of a betrothal to Annette was less off-putting than it rightfully should be, or that the memory of her small body in his arms was strangely comforting. 

The two of them meandered toward the dining hall. Upon spotting a pair of Golden Deer girls whispering behind their hands and watching him from a distance, Sylvain unceremoniously left Felix standing alone in the line to go find out if either of them might be interested in going to the ball with him. Felix watched him go looking rather more relieved than he ought and was left alone to ponder whether or not Annette _would_ go to the ball with Caspar. He wondered if Annette did, would she also sing for Caspar? He dismissed the thought as ridiculous almost immediately; she had been so concerned when Felix found out about her secret hobby that it didn’t seem likely that she would willingly share it with someone else.

“Hey, Felix!” Ingrid said loudly, interrupting his thoughts as she joined him in the dinner queue. “Where’ve you been all afternoon?”

“Cleaning the warehouse,” Felix replied blandly, folding his arms across his chest and putting on a stern expression. He tried to pull his thoughts together before he said something that he would regret in front of Ingrid again. “No thanks to Sylvain.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes and flipped her long braid over her shoulder. Glenn had loved her long hair, and she hadn’t had the heart to cut it even all these years later. “That’s to be expected. He’s never much help with chores,” she said with a shrug. “I bet he was going through all his rejections in painful detail, wasn’t he?”

“Unfortunately,” Felix confirmed, rolling his own eyes. The line was moving slowly, and his stomach was starting to growl. 

“Have you found someone to go with yet?” Ingrid asked without preamble. Her green eyes were piercing, as though she could read his inner thoughts as plainly as if they were written in a book. 

“I’m not going with anyone,” Felix insisted in an exasperated tone. He could not understand why his two friends seemed incapable of accepting this simple fact. Felix didn’t do parties, he didn’t dance, and he _certainly_ didn’t ask anyone to accompany him to an event which involved either of those activities. 

The line inched forward. The distinct odor of something burning seemed to be permeating the dining hall. Ingrid wrinkled her nose but decided to pursue the subject further instead of giving in to her instincts to investigate the source of the smell. 

“You could always ask Annette,” she said rather more loudly than Felix was entirely comfortable with and in a tone that suggested this were the most obvious solution to his non-existent problem. “You two seem to get along pretty well. She’s probably the only person who would even _agree_ to go together with you.”

“I’ve told you and Sylvain on multiple occasions that I am not asking her or anyone else,” Felix growled, narrowing his eyes and leaning closer to Ingrid. “Keep your voice down, would you?”

“If you’re not asking her, then what’s the problem if anyone hears us talking about it?” Ingrid asked in the same loud tone and arching an eyebrow. She had her hands on her hips which, in Felix’s experience, was always a bad sign.

“Look Ingrid,” Felix stepped closer to her as Raphael moved up the counter ahead of him. The smell of burning food was stronger now, and he tried to ignore how his eyes were beginning to water. “Professor Byleth just said we have to show up. She didn’t say we had to go with anyone. So, I’m going alone. That’s the end of it.”

The smell was worse the closer they came to the kitchen. Ingrid covered her nose and mouth with one hand while staring meaningfully at him. “You’re kidding yourself,” she said in a muffled voice, glancing around in case there were signs of a fire. “Pretending that you don’t like her. You’ll regret it one day if you lose her.”

“I’m not pretending anything!” Felix snapped at Ingrid through watery eyes. His patience with her and Sylvain lately was worse than usual. The more they tried to convince him that he cared for Annette, the more Felix felt an instinctual need to insist they were wrong. He glared at Ingrid as much as his strained eyes would allow. “It’s you and Sylvain who seem to have this bizarre notion, not me.”

“Felix, if you think nobody else in class—or indeed in Garreg Mach—has noticed the way you two act around each other, you are sadly mistaken,” Ingrid advised him in a tone of great authority on the matter. She wrinkled her nose again and finally gave into her instincts. “I’ll be back,” she warned Felix before bounding off into the kitchen.

Raphael finally moved on with a tray piled high with food that looked quite a bit more overcooked than it should have been. With a sinking feeling, Felix stepped up to the counter and came face-to-face with Annette herself. She was wearing a white apron over school uniform with the Blue Lion’s crest embroidered on it, and she was covered from head to foot in flour. Felix had seen her looking upset on other occasions, but Annette looked absolutely miserable now. 

“What happened?” he blurted out unthinkingly, taking in her appearance and finding himself unable to hold back the question. 

Annette sighed heavily and tried to brush some flour out of her hair, though it didn’t seem to do much good. 

“I was supposed to help with the meal tonight and well…let’s just say, cooking isn’t my strong suit,” she said hopelessly. “I tried to bake some chicken which got really burnt. Then I tried to roast some vegetables and they got burnt too. And then I tried to help prepare dessert and ended up tripping with an open bag of flour. It got _everywhere._ ”

“I can see that,” Felix said before he could help himself. Luckily, Annette flashed him a tiny smile and seemed to blush slightly under the flour coating her cheeks. “I take it that’s why you’re on serving duty now?”

“Yeah well…Dedue said he would take care of the cooking from here on out,” Annette said with a shrug which only served to cause a puff of white dust to cloud around her. “He said it would be safer it I just served the meals instead of cooking them.”

Although Felix was not a fan of Dimitri’s hound, he had to agree with Dedue’s assessment that the amount of damage Annette could cause at the serving window would be comparatively minimal than in the kitchen. 

“Well, I’ll just take whatever you have,” he said indifferently. 

As Annette disappeared into the kitchen to prepare his tray, Ingrid stepped up beside him with a shrewd look in her eye. Apparently satisfied that the dining hall was in no immediate danger of burning down, she had returned to her place in line behind him. 

“Now’s your chance,” she whispered urgently. “Ask her to go with you!”

Felix only had enough time to glare at Ingrid before Annette had returned with a tray piled with pieces of salvaged chicken, a variety of partially burnt vegetables, and a slice of sour cherry pie that seemed to have been baked more or less correctly. 

“I tried to give you pieces that weren’t _too_ burnt,” Annette said apologetically. She glanced at his face and he tried not to notice how pretty she looked even coated in flour. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse,” Felix lied as he took the tray from Annette, the tips of his fingers brushing hers. Her blue eyes looked relieved when he said it. His stomach swooped in a way that didn’t remind him of hunger. “Thanks.”

Felix could feel Annette’s eyes on the back of his head as he strode away and told himself it meant nothing. She was just watching him until Ingrid stepped forward for her own meal. She wouldn’t have expected him to ask her to the ball. Annette knew him better than that by now, he was sure. 

“You’re an idiot, Felix Hugo Fraldarius,” Ingrid whispered as he passed. “A complete and utter fool.”

\---

The White Heron Cup competition passed with little note by Felix, who had no interest in such a frivolous activity. Professor Byleth had not bothered to ask him to participate in the practices and ultimately had chosen Flayn to represent their class because she had seemed the most eager to partake in the festivities. She’d been practicing for the tournament after every class with Annette, Mercedes, and Ingrid. Unlike Sylvain, Felix had decided not to spectate any of them despite how many other students (most of them male) did. Predictably, this did not stop Sylvain from describing the practice sessions in great detail whenever he happened to catch Felix alone, which was usually during their shared chores.

“Oh, you missed a good practice today,” Sylvain said with feeling, slapping a hand over his heart for emphasis. The hoe in his free hand was uselessly leaning against the stone floor of the greenhouse. “The girls looked positively _divine._ ”

“You’d say that about any girl,” Felix grumbled as he spread fertilizer over the flowerbed that he had just finished weeding. His hands were aching from the sheer amount of the things that he had pulled out of the soil. 

“True,” Sylvain agreed with a careless shrug. “But this time, they were all wearing the dancer’s outfit. It sure shows a lot of leg. I never knew how delicate Annette’s were until today! I might be in love.”

Felix only very narrowly suppressed the urge to punch his best friend in the mouth. He felt his cheeks heating up at the mental image that Sylvain had forced into his mind. The traditional dancer’s outfit for the White Heron Cup was notoriously risqué, and Annette was entirely too sweet to wear such a thing in Felix’s opinion. Besides, it was much too cold even at Garreg Mach to be walking around in a dancer’s outfit at this time of year, and after she had only just recently recovered from a bad bout of sickness, Felix thought it was rather dangerous for Annette to be exposing too much skin to the cold. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” he muttered instead. Felix was failing miserably at not imagining Annette and her legs in a dancer’s outfit, but he wasn’t about to admit it to Sylvain. “She’s not stupid enough to fall for you.”

“Probably true,” Sylvain agreed lazily, his brown eyes shrewdly taking in the colour on Felix’s cheeks. “She’s your girl anyway, and I wouldn’t _dream_ of stealing her away from you. Have you asked her to the ball yet?”

“I’m not asking her,” Felix said irritably. He pulled the hoe out of Sylvain’s hand and walked back to the storage shed. “We’ve been over this enough times, Sylvain.”

“Why in the name of Blessed Seiros not?” Sylvain complained as though Felix had taken away his favourite snack. “You like her, and she likes you—”

“We’re friends,” Felix snapped. 

“—so, what’s the issue? She’s bound to say yes,” he finished loudly over Felix’s protests.

Felix decided not to dignify this with a response. He supposed that _if_ he were to ask any girl to the ball, the only possible choice _would_ be Annette. Mercedes was far too aloof whereas Ingrid was too much like a sister, and the rest of the girls across the Black Eagles and Golden Deer houses never even entered into Felix’s thoughts. But he _knew_ Annette very well now after months of studying and fighting alongside her. He would be lying if he denied how much he enjoyed the sound of her voice and the feel of her in his arms. 

He wasn’t used to having complex feelings for another person, and Felix didn’t know how to deal with them. Nor was it a conversation he wanted to have with Sylvain whose knowledge about romantic feelings was questionable at best and his advice likely would be downright laughable. He was good at flirting and sleeping with any girl who would let him, but he’d never managed to maintain a relationship long enough for Felix to put any stock in what he had to say on the matter.

“She probably already has someone to go with anyway,” Felix said firmly. He pushed past Sylvain and avoided his eyes. “No one would want to go with me. I don’t even _want_ to go. It wouldn’t be fair for me to put her through that when she could have a better time with someone else.”

“Ah Felix,” Sylvain said wryly. He followed Felix outside and glanced at him sidelong. “You’ll be the one missing out.”

Felix ignored him and hoped that he was wrong.

\---

Outside of the time they spent in class, Felix devoted the remainder of his free time hiding in the training grounds to avoid these unwanted conversations with Ingrid and Sylvain about his lack of a date. This was only partially successful as they both knew Felix well enough to guess where he was, but they seemed to have come to an agreement to give him some small amount of space. Felix was torn being feeling grateful for this and vaguely annoyed that it had come to this point at all.

The actual eve of the ball came much too quickly for Felix’s liking, but on the bright side, it meant that the ball itself would soon be a thing of the past. He was looking forward to no longer needing to listen to Ingrid or Sylvain badger him incessantly about a date for a party he had no desire to attend. He could go back to training in peace and life could go back to normal. At least after the ball, they would be investigating the disused chapel that was their mission for this month, not that anyone had thought much about it. It was something to keep his mind occupied as he tried hard not to dwell on whether or not Annette had actually agreed to go with anyone yet. 

“Tomorrow evening is the annual winter ball,” Professor Byleth announced unnecessarily at the end of class, as if anyone could have forgotten. “It will be a free day tomorrow, so I expect everyone to take the extra time to prepare accordingly.”

“Everyone is absurdly excited for this ball,” Dimitri commented in a tone of genuine confusion. Felix privately agreed with the sentiment. “It just seems so…frivolous.”

“Your Highness, we are all encouraged to enjoy the ball tomorrow,” Dedue said reprovingly. Professor Byleth nodded in solemn agreement. “Do not sound so detached.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Dimitri sighed deeply and sank back in his chair. He looked like a rather petulant child as opposed to a man. “It is a great burden for us to attend a ball and put on a display of chivalry.”

“I never thought we’d see eye to eye, but I agree,” Felix said sourly. He glared at the back of Ingrid’s head, thinking back to how she had been trying to corner him about a date over the last several weeks. “I’d rather be swinging my blade than wasting my time with some girl at a ball.”

He pointedly avoided looking over to where Annette sat at the front of the room and tried not to wonder if she looked hurt by his words. Felix realized that it was silly to worry about how she might feel about what he said, especially when he hadn’t exactly hidden his opinion about the whole affair since it was first announced. Still, it felt wrong to cause her pain, even if it was indirectly. 

“It’s not like you have a girl to waste time with,” Sylvain pointed out smugly. He ran a hand through his hair and his voice was dripping with overdone incredulity. “This is our chance to dance with all the ladies at Garreg Mach as much as we want, and you two are talking about it as if it’s a death sentence.”

Ingrid turned in her seat and shot both of them a sharp look that Sylvain ignored, and Felix returned in equal measure. He was fairly confident that he knew what Ingrid was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. 

“I’m excited for the ball,” Ashe piped up from the other side of the room in a brave attempt to diffuse the tension on the room. He laughed nervously and glanced around the room at the others. “We don’t get to do this very often. I wish I knew how to dance though…”

“I can teach you!” Annette squeaked, turning in her seat and smiling widely at him. Her voice was pitched slightly higher than normal. Felix felt a swooping sensation in his stomach when she spoke and tried not to imagine Annette wearing a dancer’s outfit to teach Ashe the basics of a waltz. “It’s really easy!”

“Thank you, Annette,” Ashe said with a smile of his own that lit up his entire visage. “I’d like that.”

Felix ignored the way Sylvain nudged him with his elbow. He tried not glare at Ashe either; it wasn’t his fault that Felix was in a foul mood because Sylvain had been badgering him for weeks to ask Annette to the ball. It also wasn’t Ashe’s fault that Felix hadn’t done it and was now trying to deny that he was a little bit jealous that Ashe was going to have a chance to dance with her privately. 

_I don’t even like dancing,_ Felix thought grumpily. He leaned across the desk sullenly and stared straight ahead without really seeing anything. _And it’s not like I really like Annette that way either. So what if she teaches Ashe to dance? It’s got nothing to do with me._

“We girls should meet up in Ingrid’s room tomorrow to get ready,” Mercedes proposed brightly. Her voice shattered the train of Felix’s thoughts, a change that was probably for the better. “This occasion calls for some makeup! Right, Ingrid?”

“Oh um…I’ll think about it,” Ingrid replied quickly, trying to mask the sound of panic in her voice. Her green eyes were wide with cautious anticipation. “I’m not really into wearing any makeup…”

The class had broken down into excited chatter about the ball. Even Professor Byleth looked genuinely excited for the evening, her lips curving upwards into a small smile. Annette and Mercedes were conversing with Ingrid in excited voices, both of their face lit up excitement. Despite her protests, Ingrid looked equally pleased by the prospect of preparing for an evening of fun and dancing—it wasn’t something she had done in all the years Felix had known her. Certainly, she hadn’t indulged in anything like this since Glenn had died.

“There’s no telling where life will take us when we leave here,” Dimitri said slowly, resting his head on his hand. The babble of voices quieted as he spoke, and all eyes turned to him. Felix thought he looked rather too comfortable and mistrusted the cold look in Dimitri’s blue eyes. “If only we could come together like this again after we graduate.”

“Five years from now is the Millennium Festival,” Dedue replied gravely after a moment’s silence. “Would that not be an appropriate time for a reunion?”

“Indeed, you’re right Dedue,” Dimitri said thoughtfully. He ran a hand through his pale hair as he considered this proposal. “We’ll all have our own stuffy positions to contend with by then, so it will be a good excuse to get away from all of that for a while.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Annette sang out cheerfully. She grabbed Mercedes by the hands and grinned at her. “You’ll come too, right Mercie?”

“Of course,” Mercedes said, returning the smile with equal enthusiasm. “You must come as well, Professor! It would not be a reunion without you too!”

“Of course I will attend,” she said formally, nodding her head once so that her sea-blue hair obscured her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“It’s settled then,” Dimitri proclaimed loudly, rising from his seat and adopting a royal tone. “The Blue Lions will reunite here at Garreg Mach five years hence.”

“Maybe by then, you won’t be so eager to deny your feelings,” Sylvain whispered to Felix with a smirk. “If your old man hasn’t already married you off.”

“I swear to the Goddess, if you don’t drop this once and for all, I _will_ run you through with my blade,” Felix replied in a low and threatening tone. “Best keep that in mind if you still intend to be in one piece for the ball tomorrow.”

Sylvain only grinned more widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, we're finally at the eve of the ball! These two chapters are some of my favourite pre-timeskip chapters that I wrote :) And I had a lot of fun writing them from Felix's perspective. The second part will probably go up early this weekend, so I hope you'll look forward to it. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your lovely comments and for reading <3 
> 
> Love, Kami


	15. Teach Me How to Love

The next morning dawned bright and cold, a fact which did not deter Felix from stubbornly continuing his usual morning routine as he tried to maintain some control over the coming day’s events. The Monastery seemed to be crackling with anticipation for the ball, a feeling he could not escape even in the relative isolation of the training grounds. Footsteps hurried back and forth on the other side of the heavy iron doors with snatches of excited conversation drifting past as he moved from one stance to another. Felix tried to ignore the distractions, focusing on moving his body fluidly and effortlessly as his sword became an extension of his own self. 

He found his concentration lacking, however, and no amount of willpower seemed enough to bring his focus to the task at hand. Felix found his mind wandering back over the last several weeks to his conversations with Sylvain and Ingrid, his time spent with Annette, and all the unwelcome letters his father continued to send. He could hear the faint sound of a song in the back of his head, an endless tune which accompanied Felix wherever he went. It was not bothersome, and he could not precisely explain why, but it was soothing in a way that Felix hadn’t realized he needed.

Giving up on his training earlier than usual, Felix spent the remainder of the morning cooped up in his room trying to avoid Sylvain—and everyone else in Garreg Mach, as it happened. He tried to study some of the more complex magical theories that Annette had introduced in their last lesson but quickly found that this did nothing to take his mind away from the rapidly approaching ball or the question of who be going with Annette. 

Felix felt more than a little flustered that this question not only actually bothered him, but also that he hadn’t actually found out if she was going with anyone at all. Coming to terms with the fact he wished he knew this otherwise insignificant piece of information proved more difficult than he would have though possible. 

_It doesn’t matter who she goes with,_ Felix thought angrily as he furiously shined the buttons on his formal school blazer after finally giving up the studying. _I don’t even_ want _to go, and I certainly don’t want to dance with her or anyone else!_

A small part of him whispered that if any of that were true, he wouldn’t be so desperate to convince himself that he didn’t care. Felix tried to ignore this voice with about as much success as he had had in forgetting that song Annette had first sung all those months ago in the knight’s hall. Felix would not correct Ingrid when she claimed he hadn’t cared for anyone since Glenn’s death, but neither could he deny that the little mage-girl had somehow become just as important to him as his old friends always had been. It was not something he would have expected, but it had happened all the same and Felix was still dealing with meanings and the consequences of that. 

Throughout the afternoon, Felix could hear pieces of conversation in the hall outside his room as students ran from one dorm to another. Girls were avidly (and loudly) gossiping about their dates for the evening or, if they had failed to secure one, they seemed most interested in discussing the couples who _would_ be attending together. More than once, Felix was certain he had heard Annette’s voice faintly outside his door speaking with some unknown companion he could only assume was Mercedes. If they were discussing their dates for the evening, he couldn’t hear clearly enough to tell. 

Sylvain eventually _did_ come by on the pretense of ensuring that Felix was ready for the evening and to berate him one last time that he hadn’t bothered to ask Annette to go with him. By this time, Felix was already dressed in a fresh formal uniform, fixing his dark hair back into his usual knot at the back of his head and mentally preparing himself for the evening to come. He shot one menacing look at the redhead, stopping Sylvain in his tracks and forcing him out of the room through the sheer force of his will. 

The sun was setting by the time Felix finally headed toward the ball at a resigned pace, hands shoved into his pockets and a sour expression on his face. He saw Professor Byleth give him a heavy stare as he slipped into the hall, her posture stiff and disapproving of his lateness. Glaring back defiantly, Felix sauntered off to a corner of the room and sat himself down at an empty table partially obscured by shadow where he could sulk in peace. 

Pulling a flagon of watered wine closer, Felix poured himself a glass and held it loosely between his fingers, eyes scanning the crowd of students. There was Dimitri in the middle of the dance floor with another Blue Lion student gazing at him vapidly, as if all her silly dreams had come true. Edelgard danced nearby with a young man whose expression was equally as daft as the woman’s. Felix snorted in disgust and took a sip of his wine. It had a surprisingly deep flavour, reminding him of the good wine his father kept in the Fraldarius cellars. 

After at least an hour and a half of sitting alone nursing his wine and listlessly watching the crowd before Felix had a clear view of Claude von Riegan leading Professor Byleth onto the dance floor, his face impish in the dim light. The other students seemed to melt away around them, giving them plenty of space to move. It was obvious to Felix that the Professor was not an accomplished dancer; her movements were unsure and jerky, as if she was unused to doing something so delicate. Claude, however, seemed quite competent at the art of dancing and led her gracefully across the floor to many loud exclamations of amazement and jealousy. Felix took another sip of wine as other couples began to dance again as the song changed to a faster melody. 

He finally saw Annette dancing across the hall with Caspar with a joyful expression, her face pink with exhilaration and her laughter echoing through the room. Felix frowned as he watched, unable to break the line of sight on them, noting how closely the blue-haired man held Annette around the waist and the way he looked so genuinely happy with her. It probably meant nothing— _everyone_ was happy around Annette—and it shouldn’t even _matter_ to Felix whether they were happy together. He needed only his sword in this world. 

“May I sit here?” asked a woman in a mellifluous voice. 

Turning his head, Felix saw Mercedes standing by his table holding a wine glass of her own and smiling kindly down at him. He shrugged indifferently, not greatly caring if she sat or not. 

“If you like,” Felix said in a bored voice as he moved his gaze back out across the sea of dancers. The song had ended, and he could no longer see Annette or her partner. He wondered if they had wandered off to the Goddess Tower together, seeking to find out if the legends surrounding it were actually true. The thought made Felix scowl at a passing Golden Deer girl and she scurried away before he realized what he’d done.

“Thank you,” Mercedes said. She sat across from him and smoothed her long skirt meticulously over her knees. Her hair was swept up behind her head into an artful bun with only a single tendril of hair hanging by her face. “You’ve been sitting alone here for an awfully long time. Don’t you want to enjoy the party?”

“Not really,” Felix answered truthfully. He could see Sylvain on the dance floor now having claimed Annette as his new partner. He was holding her as closely as Caspar had, and Felix felt an unusually sharp pang of irritation in his chest at the sight. Sylvain was looking at Annette the same way he did when he was wooing a woman, an expression Felix absolutely did not like to see directed at Annette. “I don’t want to be here at all.”

Mercedes chuckled as though he had said something amusing. “That’s too bad. It’s a wonderful opportunity to socialize with other students. We don’t have much time to get to know each other outside of classes.”

Felix wasn’t sure where Mercedes was going with this conversation, so he remained silent. He continued to watch Sylvain lead Annette across the dance floor, sweeping close by their table. Sylvain grinned toothily at him over Annette’s shoulder and swung her around in a wide circle with an unnecessary flourish. Annette laughed and smiled brightly at Mercedes, only allowing it to fade slightly when she caught sight of Felix’s dour expression. They were gone almost as soon quickly as they had come, disappearing into the crowd like smoke in the wind. 

“I’m so glad Annie is having a good time,” Mercedes said innocently, her eyes fixed upon the crowd and the wine in her hand glinting in the candlelight of the hall. “She works so hard at everything. She deserves to have some fun once in a while, don’t you think?”

Felix blinked in surprise at being addressed this question. He raised his glass to his lips as he turned to face Mercedes. She did not look at him, remaining serenely focused on the dancers as though her question were not remotely out of the ordinary. 

“I suppose so,” Felix replied carefully, watching her closely over the rim of his glass.

“You’re very alike,” Mercedes went on conversationally, her tone light and casual. She glanced at him through the corner of her pale eyes, a soft smile curling on her lips. Felix raised his glass to his own lips and drank, though his eyes never left Mercedes’ face. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as dedicated to their cause as Annie until I met you.”

“There is no point in wielding a sword if you are not willing to put in the effort to be the best,” Felix replied levelly. He could see Annette dancing again, her face alight with pleasure as she held Dimitri’s hands now. Felix felt another stab of annoyance in his chest that he couldn’t quite conceal in his expression. He hadn’t trusted the boar prince with anything delicate since they were children and greatly mistrusted his strength as he held Annette while they danced. “I don’t care about anything except getting stronger.”

“Is that so…” Mercedes replied demurely, sounding unconvinced. Her eyes also followed Annette across the dance floor. “I wonder if that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true,” Felix said waspishly, arching one dark eyebrow at her. He reached for the flagon and refilled his wine glass as the pair disappeared amongst the other dancing couples. “I have no reason to lie about why I’m here.”

Mercedes smiled then and turned to look at him directly. “As I said, you’re very much like Annie,” she told him with a smile. “You’re both stubborn enough to believe that’s true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix growled at Mercedes and dropping all pretense of politeness. “I’ve never hidden my goals from anyone. She knows it as much as anyone else.”

The woman smiled benignly at him and took another sip of her wine, draining the glass entirely. “I know,” Mercedes assured him, raising her hand and waving gently at Annette who was now weaving through the crowd towards them with Sylvain at her side and balancing an absurdly full plate of desserts in her hands. “You try so hard to be strong. Is there really any harm in enjoying yourself for one night?”

“I enjoy getting stronger,” Felix retorted, watching Annette barely manage to avoid dropping her dessert plate onto the floor. He saw Sylvain catch her arm and steady her in time to prevent a disaster and wondered vaguely if Annette would have smiled just as brilliantly at him if Felix been there instead of Sylvain. “Everything else is a distraction obstructing that goal.”

Mercedes only smiled, a secret look that seemed to hold a world wisdom that Felix did not like to consider. “Of course,” she agreed softly, inclining her head toward him in an acknowledgement of his apparent victory. “Forgive me, I did not mean to suggest that anything or anyone else might be equally as important to you.”

Felix felt another stab of annoyance well in his chest and bit back a scathing reply on topic. He was keenly aware of Sylvain and Annette approaching their table and knew it would be unwise to try and argue the point further. Mercedes was almost as infuriating in her serenity as Annette could be with her infernally catchy songs and quick wits. 

_No wonder they get along so well,_ he thought crossly, glaring unnecessarily at Sylvain who raised his hands sheepishly in front of himself and took an obvious step away from Annette. 

“Mercie! Look, I’ve brought sweets for us,” Annette said cheerfully. She set the plate down and pulled up a chair by Mercedes, seating herself opposite from Felix and Sylvain. It was piled high with more desserts than Felix could possibly name. He felt sick just looking at it. “Have some, won’t you?”

“It’s delicious!” Mercedes exclaimed, raising a piece of cake to her mouth. “Thank you, Annie. I’ve hardly seen you tonight!”

“Sorry about that,” Annette replied with a guilty grin, running a hand over her braided hair. “It’s wonderful to dance again. I’ve missed it.” She cast a glance at Felix, as if worried he might suddenly decide to explain, in great detail, about her greenhouse dancing escapade. He stared back blandly and said nothing. 

“You’re a natural dancer,” Sylvain said fervently, leaning across the table and taking a macaron from the plate. He flashed a charming smile toward Annette, the same one he used to hit on girls. Felix suppressed an urge to kick his shin under the table and settled for glaring moodily at Sylvain instead, who pretended not to notice.

“I like dancing,” she replied with a giggle, reaching for a cupcake with enough icing to be a meal of its own. “I wouldn’t say I’m a natural, but I’ve practiced enough to be competent.”

“You’re downplaying your own skill,” Mercedes murmured, refilling her wine glass and pouring a second for Annette. “Remember when we used to dance in the empty classrooms at the Royal School of Sorcery after passing a particularly difficult exam? You were always better than me.”

Annette’s face coloured and she almost choked on her cupcake. “Mercie!” she spluttered after a moment, looking horrified that her friend would so casually mention such a private occurrence. She glanced frantically between Felix and Sylvain as if to gauge their reactions to this tidbit of information. “That was…I mean…”

Felix raised his eyebrows with interest, but Sylvain broke into the conversation first. “Darling Mercedes is right,” he said gallantly, a twinkle in his eye. “Regardless of _where_ you practiced, you have no need to be modest. Why, I think you could even teach Felix a thing or two!”

Felix did kick him hard in the shin then. Sylvain winced slightly but his lopsided grin didn’t fade and neither of the women seemed to notice anything amiss. 

“I don’t dance,” he said icily with a pointed look at Sylvain. 

“You used to dance with Ingrid all the time,” Sylvain laughed heartily and threw an arm about Felix’s shoulders. “Don’t you remember?”

“That was when we were children,” Felix growled, shrugging Sylvain’s arm off his shoulders roughly and glaring at him ominously. “She was just trying to learn so she could dance with Glenn. I had no interest in dancing with her.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Sylvain replied silkily. Annette and Mercedes leaned closer with undisguised curiosity. Felix felt his own face growing hot and turned his gaze away from Sylvain. 

“Your memory is faulty,” he said coldly, refusing to look at any of his companions. 

“So it happens as one ages,” Sylvain sighed theatrically. He stood and walked around the table, stopping in front of Mercedes and offering a courtly bow. “My lady, if my memory still serves me well enough, I would be pleased if you would join me on the dance floor.”

The fair-haired priestess smiled warmly and accepted Sylvain’s proffered hand. “I would be delighted,” Mercedes replied as she stood and allowed herself to be led away. She glanced over her shoulder, her violet eyes flashing in the candlelight. “Farewell for now, Annie, Felix.”

The pair of them lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as Sylvain and Mercedes vanished deeper into the hall. Annette sipped her wine and sighed quietly. She glanced at Felix and looked very much like she wanted to say something but instead reached for a small coconut square from her dessert plate. Her eyes looked distant and melancholy, as though she was looking into the past rather than enjoying the ball. Felix knew he shouldn’t care, that he ought not worry about Annette. If he simply remained silent and unwelcoming, she would eventually leave of her own accord. People always did that around Felix; no one wanted to spend time with his sour personality.

It was the way things should be; the way Felix preferred his life to be: one of solitary pursuit of strength alone. Feelings got in the way of that, turning an otherwise excellent swordsman into a dead one for a liege lord, or a once-gentle prince into a murderous animal. Felix had long ago vowed to himself he would never allow himself to become like Glenn or Dimitri, allowing his feelings to dictate the actions in his life. Feelings were dangerous for a warrior and Felix wasn’t a reckless man. He had carefully boxed up his feelings and set them aside long ago. 

_I shouldn’t care,_ he though harshly as he watched Annette stare blankly into her wine glass. He remembered how he had felt seeing her cry over a man who had abandoned her and destroyed her family. He thought of how Ingrid claimed he hadn’t cared for anyone since Glenn died, and how Mercedes had implied the opposite just minutes earlier. _I shouldn’t care so much about a woman I’ve known less than a year._

“He isn’t here,” Felix said quietly, not knowing he was going to say anything at all. Annette turned her face to gaze at him, a world of sorrow in her blue eyes. He felt a stab of pain in his chest that was somehow different than the ones he had felt earlier. “Most of the knights aren’t here tonight.”

Annette nodded gloomily and raised her wine glass to her lips. “I know,” she murmured, casting her eyes across the room again. “He’s probably in the Cathedral. He spends a lot of time there, I’ve noticed.” 

“Guilty men often feel the need to supplicate themselves before the Goddess for a forgiveness they do not deserve,” Felix replied harshly. “I watched my old man do much the same thing after Glenn died.”

Annette looked at him, her face curiously expressionless. “I’m sorry,” she said softly after several moments of silence. “That must be so hard for you.”

“Why are you sorry?” Felix asked with genuine surprise. “It has nothing to do with you.”

Annette looked at him and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry for your pain,” she said simply. “It hurts to see anyone remember a family that has been broken like ours have been.”

Felix stared at Annette in a stunned silence. 

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. Annette looked down at her hands and sighed again. “That was presumptuous of me.”

“Not at all,” Felix said with a vigorous shake of his head. “I’ve told you before, don’t apologize. You should be enjoying yourself tonight, not wallowing in sadness over your pitiful excuse for a father.”

Annette looked as surprised at this turn in conversation as Felix felt. He hadn’t realized he would say something like that, echoing what Mercedes had said to him. 

_Here I go again,_ Felix railed inwardly at his own stupidity. _Speaking before I think it through._

“I am enjoying myself,” Annette said firmly. She had set her wine glass on the table and held Felix’s gaze unflinchingly. “I would have left already if I wasn’t.”

Felix wasn’t sure if she meant she would have left the ball or if she would have left him, but decided the difference was too minimal to matter. Perhaps it was better not to know for sure, lest his carefully hidden emotions began to stir after so many years. 

_On the other hand,_ Felix thought ruefully, staring at Annette as though he had never seen her before, _perhaps it is already too late._

The musicians struck up a new song as they sat quietly in a comfortable silence. Annette broke their gaze first, turning instead to watch the couples on the dance floor wistfully. Sylvain was leading Dorothea to the centre of the room while Mercedes had claimed Dedue as her partner and was leading him in the waltz. 

“This is my mother’s favourite song,” Annette said suddenly, her voice curiously reminiscent. She was smiling as she watched their friends, absently drumming her fingers on the table in time with the music. “It was the last song I danced to with my father.”

Felix was on his feet before he realized it and moving before he understood the implications of what he was about to do. He bowed formally to Annette in the way his own father had taught him as a child. He could remember practicing his perfect bow to his mother and her laughing face as she would curtsy back to her young son. Felix had bowed to Ingrid too when they would practice dancing together, before he had let go of his boyhood crush on her and accepted that she loved his brother. It had been a very long time since he had bowed to a woman, yet somehow it seemed natural even after so many years. 

“I would be honoured if you would dance with me, Annette,” Felix said, his voice hitching slightly in his throat. He felt his cheeks getting hot and was glad Sylvain was not there to comment on it. 

For a moment, Felix was certain she would refuse. He remained bowed for what felt like an eternity, one hand extended into the empty space between them. Felix wasn’t sure in that moment what he would do when Annette refused, politely declining his offered hand and looking away awkwardly. He tried not to let his mind focus on how he would feel, ashamed and foolish for thinking it was a good idea to care about anyone, least of all a woman he had only known for a few short months. Felix wondered how he would excuse himself from the room without drawing attention to himself amongst the crowd, and how he could possibly avoid her in class for the remainder of the year. He thought about withdrawing his hand before she could have a chance to reject him herself.

“The honour would be mine, Felix” Annette replied, her voice slightly higher than its normal pitch, taking his hand in a gentle grip and sinking into an equally formal curtsy. She held the position for a long moment, her own head bowed and the candlelight making her hair glow like fire in their shadowed corner of the room. 

Annette rose gracefully and walked beside him onto the brightly lit dance floor. Her hand felt warm in his as they began to dance amongst the other couples on the floor. A distant part of Felix’s mind was certain there were hundreds of eyes watching them together and people wondering how in the world Annette had come to be dancing with the most notoriously unsociable man in the entire Monastery. Felix was aware that his friends would never let him forget this moment, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that any hope he had ever had of convincing them that Annette was merely a friend had vanished as soon as he stood up from his seat. They would be wrong, of course, but Felix found he didn’t much care what they thought at the moment.

Felix knew the song as well as anyone in the room did. It was a popular piece that had been composed during the time of Loog, King of Lions, called _Sunlight After Snowfall_. The composer had been part of the royal court at the time, a renowned man who had created many beautiful songs, although this was by far his most beloved piece. It was said to be composed after Faerghus had won her freedom.

He held Annette’s gaze as he led her across the floor, noting with satisfaction that she looked at least as happy as she had with each of her other partners that evening. She was as good as Mercedes had said, following his lead with ease. Her hands felt small and delicate in his own, and he hoped his callouses weren’t too bothersome to her skin.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” she said lightly, a smile curving her lips. 

Felix tried to suppress a smile of his own. “I don’t,” he agreed, not noticing as Sylvain passed by with a wide grin over Annette’s shoulder. “It’s a distraction.”

Annette raised a delicate eyebrow. “I am honored to be considered worthy of such a distraction,” she said with mock deference. “I must say, I did not expect to dance with you tonight.”

“I hadn’t been planning on dancing,” Felix replied truthfully. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to Annette. He had never been able to talk to Ingrid like this, nor even Sylvain or Dimitri. The three of them were so different from Annette, full of sharp edges and festering despair that they used to protect themselves from further pain. Felix knew he was the same way; it was why he had vowed to be different, to separate his feelings from his life, to devote himself to the one unfeeling thing that could never betray him. 

Annette was different not because she lacked experience with that kind of pain but rather because she defied it. She was not afraid to face that pain every day, chasing the dream of reuniting her family because it would make her mother happy again, no matter how much it hurt her to do it. It was a way of dealing with the situation that Felix had never considered. Perhaps it was because his own mother had died long before Glenn, when he had still been a child almost too young to understand the difference between life and death. Would things have been different if she had lived? Felix had never considered it before, and he did not have an answer.

“Do you like this song, Felix?” Annette asked, tilting her head as she watched his expression and tightening her grip in his hand. 

“I suppose. I’ve never thought much about music before—” he stopped mid-sentence, his mind racing to find a way to finish it that didn’t involve saying anything about walking in on Annette in the greenhouse. “—before tonight.”

“This is not my favourite song,” Annette said quietly as the music started to fade and couples began to slow their movements. She smiled up at him. “I’ve always preferred the _Dawnsong._ ”

Felix knew that song too. It was not as popular as _Sunlight After Snowfall,_ and had been composed many years later by another, lesser known poet known only as Rafiel. He could remember hearing it sung from time to time at parties either in Fhirdiad or Castle Fraldarius. He had never thought much about music before he had met her, and he didn’t know the words, a fact he loathed to admit to Annette. 

“Why that song?” he asked instead. His voice was softer than usual, and he felt his cheeks flush slightly as he looked into Annette’s bright blue eyes.

“This one is beautiful, but there is a thread of sadness throughout the song, calling back to happier days from the distant past,” Annette said as they came to a stop. She still held his hands tightly and part of him wished she wouldn’t let go. “But _Dawnsong_ sings of hope, and I think that in this world, we _need_ hope.”

Annette sank into a curtsy again and Felix bowed purely out of instinct. 

“I thank you for this dance, Felix” she said gravely, her blue eyes sparkling as she rose and met his gaze once more. Even in the royal court, few people still used the old formal style when they danced together. Felix supposed she followed the form because he had used it himself when he asked her to dance in the first place, the way his mother had taught him all those years ago. “Perhaps if the Goddess is gracious, we will have this chance again one day.”

The words were expected, Felix knew, but he could not stop a pang of happiness from filling his chest. He tried to suppress it, tried not to think hard on the formal words, understanding that they were proper and not meant for him in any other way. He knew Annette didn’t _mean_ them personally; she was only saying what she _had_ to say. His response was supposed to be the same, after all. Nothing they said was intended to be taken intimately. 

“May the Goddess be gracious to us, then,” he intoned formally to a goddess he was not even sure he truly believed in. 

Annette squeezed his hand one last time and unlaced her fingers from his. “I should be going now,” she murmured, another blush suffusing her cheeks. “I really do thank you for the dance, Felix. It was very special.”

She began to walk past him, her eyes suddenly downcast. Impulsively, Felix grabbed her hand again and held it firmly. “Tell me, Annette,” he said recklessly in a low voice. “Where is your date? Surely he should not have left you alone here tonight.”

Inexplicably, Annette slowly turned back to look at him with a wide grin. Felix could not have said what he expected, but he had not thought she would be smiling as though he had offered his sword to her service for the rest of his days. Her eyes twinkled with a secret he could not decipher, and her hair glowed with a halo of candlelight. 

“I came alone,” Annette told him, still holding his hand and smiling brightly. 

Felix schooled his expression into one of impassivity to mask his surprise. 

“Is that so…” he said musingly, carefully watching Annette’s expression. 

“I suppose I should not downplay myself,” Annette went on sweetly, echoing Mercedes’ earlier comment about her dancing. Her lips were still curved in a suspicious kind of smile that Felix liked much more than he truly wanted to admit. “Caspar _did_ ask me to go with him, but I turned him down. I thought it would be wrong to…well…”

Annette’s voice trailed off and she let go of Felix’s hand. 

“Never mind,” she said, turning to go again, her eyes still dancing in the dim candlelight. “Good night, Felix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all the pre-timeskip chapters, this may very well be my favourite. It's the perfect dash of fluff before the war come and things get more angsty. I was originally going to have this and Chapter 14 as one chapter, but I felt the flow was better if I separated them. I really wanted to write this from Felix's perspective especially, since he has a lot of complicated feelings to work through.
> 
> I'm a sucker for romance and angst, and well...the angst is on the way haha
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one! Thank you everyone for reading and for your lovely comments, as always <3 
> 
> Love, Kami


	16. Loss

Something had changed between them that night, and Annette was not quite sure she could explain what it was. The memory of Felix’s secure hold on her hand as she had turned to leave the ball and the way he had watched her so intensely when he asked who her date had been had given her hope. Annette truly hadn’t thought he would dance with her, not after how insistent Felix had been in the weeks leading up to the ball saying that he had no interest in it, so she’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d formally asked her to dance in the old style. It was a curious feeling that she hadn’t even yet confided in Mercedes because Annette wasn’t sure she really understood the depth of it herself yet. 

Annette had had crushes before, but they had been fleeting and ultimately went unspoken. During her time at the Royal School of Sorcery, Annette’s crushes had mostly consisted of her watching longingly from afar at a boy she knew she would never speak to and to whom she would never confess her feelings. They were easy crushes, the kind of feelings she and Mercedes would stay up late into the night discussing by candlelight and wondering what would happen if they _did_ approach the boy in question. Annette could remember how they would lapse into fits of giggles as they snuggled together in a small dormitory bed and talk about who they liked and what they hoped for their futures. Neither of them had every truly considered that they would make a love match for their marriages, and they both had accepted that they would largely have no real say in the matter anyway. Even so, Annette had spent many happy nights with Mercedes dreaming of what they wanted rather than what reality was likely to provide.

She was not so foolish to believe she would ever have a hope of marrying Felix, given how her family’s social status was so much lower. Yet Annette could no longer deny (at least to herself) that she had been developing a crush on Felix for the better part of nine months, ever since she had first arrived at Garreg Mach. She could not pinpoint the first time she realized how she felt, but Annette supposed it wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things. It had come upon her as naturally as breathing.

Annette lay awake in her bed that night and replayed the entire evening in her head, too giddy to fall asleep. She knew she had a stupid, vapid smile on her face and couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself. Finally acknowledging the truth of her own feelings had left Annette feeling free and unburdened, like a wounded bird that had finally regained the use of its wings. She knew she would have to tell Mercedes about the evening and thank her for gracefully leaving them alone at the table. Annette was positive that Felix would not have made a move if Sylvain and Mercedes had remained there with them. Despite his outward appearance, Felix was surprisingly shy when it came to expressing his feelings. She remembered saying as much on her first day in Garreg Mach and how Dimitri and Ingrid had laughed until their sides hurt, yet somehow, Annette knew it was true even then.

_What are his feelings?_ Annette wondered, turning her head to stare at the starlit sky. The darkness was beginning to recede now as the dawn approached and, with it, their latest mission. _I don’t_ think _he would have danced with me if he didn’t like me. He didn’t dance with anyone else, after all._

She was reasonably sure that after she left, Felix wouldn’t have danced with anyone else, if he had stayed at all. He _had_ been very vocal about his distaste for the evening so it wouldn’t have been out of character for him to leave right after she did. Annette wondered vaguely how many people would be whispering about them and spreading rumors after tonight—and there _would_ be rumors, she knew. Felix was the one of the most outwardly unfriendly people in the entire Monastery and well known for his single-minded devotion to the art of swordplay. No one would fail to gossip about how he had asked Annette to dance and how he had stopped her before she left for the evening to ask one final question. Although no one would have heard what they said, the rumors would fill that part in. 

Annette smiled in the darkness and closed her eyes, trying to force her mind to calmness so that she could get a few hours of sleep before the dawn broke. She didn’t much mind the thought of rumors or people gossiping about them; no one would be able determine the circumstances of how they had come to dance together nor what Felix had asked her at the end of the night. It was like a secret they alone shared, and that made it all the sweeter. Annette sighed again, her heart still beating too quickly in her chest as she remembered how his amber eyes reflected hers and the way his voice hitched when he asked her dance. 

Sleep was a long time in claiming her.

\---

The class gathered together in mid-afternoon for their mission, many of them still groggy from the evening before. Sylvain’s fiery hair was quite disheveled, and he looked very much like he had not slept at all despite appearing rather pleased with himself. On the other hand, Ashe looked rather pale, his freckles standing out more prominently on his fair skin, and he was holding a cool cloth over his forehead in a vain attempt to ward off a further headache. Mercedes, in her kind and sisterly way, had gone over to him and gently advised some remedies for light hangovers since Ashe was clearly not used to drinking as much alcohol as he had the night before.

Annette watched the proceedings with fond amusement and stifled a yawn of her own. She would never claim to be a morning person—that was Mercedes, who often attended dawn prayers in the Cathedral—but even in the rather heavily overcast afternoon, she found herself still exhausted from the night before. It was really too bad that they had a mission the very next morning; in Faerghus, this would be a day of rest where family would gather and celebrate the end of the year and exchange gifts. It would have been a perfect day to spend lazing about in bed and sleeping off the escapades from the evening prior.

Surprisingly, Felix was among the last of the students to arrive at the designated rendezvous point. His hair was pulled back in the same knot from the night before, and he looked suspiciously like he had lain awake for most of the night in the clothes he had been wearing at the ball. He looked wearier than Annette had ever seen him, and she wondered if he _had_ actually spent more time at the ball than she’d originally believed. Felix didn’t even seem to have enough energy to react to Sylvain’s poorly concealed jests about his love life that Annette generously pretended she couldn’t hear. She had expected as much from Sylvain, after all. 

“You look awfully sleepy today,” Annette said to Felix as she covered another yawn with the back of her hand. Professor Byleth—apparently the only person amongst them who looked no different than normal—had elected to send the class in the usual pairs to investigate the chapel since nobody was listening closely enough to follow different directions. She stood aside with her father as she watched the students traipse off languidly to complete their orders, a tiny smile brightening her stoic features. 

“I didn’t sleep well,” Felix muttered, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t look terribly awake yourself, Annette.”

She felt herself blush when he said her name and smiled brightly to hide it. “Oh, I’m really tired!” Annette replied truthfully, lacing her fingers together around the back of her head. She had slept in the braids and taken them out this morning, allowing her hair to hang in loose curls around her head. “It was a very busy night, after all.”

“Indeed…” Felix mused slowly, glancing sideways at her with an unreadable expression on his face. After a long moment, he sighed and began to walk. “Come on, we should get started on this investigation. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go back to sleep.”

Annette kept pace with Felix and hummed her mother’s old song unthinkingly, still riding a high from the evening before. A small part of Annette couldn’t help but wish Felix would gently take her hand as they walked together despite the more rational part of her knowing it wouldn’t happen. She could well imagine what the others would say if anyone saw Felix holding her hand outside of an event like the winter ball, and she could visualize how he would look scandalized, probably dropping her hand altogether in an attempt to save his fractured image. Annette glanced down at Felix’s hand, watching it sway as he walked and wondering what he would do if she snatched it herself and laced her fingers between his. 

Lost in fantasies of her own design, it took a few minutes for Annette to realize that Felix was humming along in time with her, his deep voice adding a new layer to the song that she hadn’t expected to hear. Although she had truly feared that Felix would make a laughingstock of her when he stumbled upon her musical hobby, Annette couldn’t deny that there was a certain joy to be had in sharing it with someone who seemed genuinely interested. Mercedes didn’t really count; they were best friends, so she was pretty much obligated to like Annette’s songs and silly dances. Felix was different, and under no such obligation, so Annette was privately flattered to have an interested audience, even if it _was_ embarrassing to consider performing for him on purpose. Certainly, Annette had no intention of performing for him _ever,_ but a small traitorous part of her thought it might be fun. 

“What are we even looking for here?” Annette asked, breaking the song and valiantly trying to focus more clearly on the task at hand. Daydreams could wait, especially ones that weren’t likely to come true. “This place looks completely overrun by weeds.”

Felix shrugged and crouched down in front of a clump of overgrown shrubs. “Evidence of intruders and whatever they were doing here,” Felix said as he ran the tips of his fingers over what appeared to be a footprint. “If I had to guess, I would assume it’s something similar to what Sylvain was up to last night.”

Annette glanced at him and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You really think it’s something so…mundane?” she said doubtfully, unable to find a better word to describe the situation to which Felix had alluded. “Nothing more sinister?”

“Lady Rhea herself told Professor Byleth there’s nothing of value kept here,” Felix said with another shrug as he stood up again. He caught Annette’s gaze and smirked at her, his amber eyes flashing with amusement. “Why else would students be coming here if not for some privacy from prying eyes?”

“I suppose that’s a good point…” Annette replied pensively and not sounding entirely convinced. “Still, it seems unlikely to me. There’s been so many strange occurrences here this year that I’d be surprised if it’s simply a matter of couples meeting here for nighttime trysts.”

Felix looked at her for a moment before turning to follow the footprints. “You could be right,” he acknowledged in a more serious tone. “We won’t know until we find some evidence of what’s been happening here.”

It was not long before the pair came across the source of the footprints that Felix had seen in the dirt. A female student lay half-hidden behind a bush, apparently unconscious and completely alone, and blessedly clothed. Her breathing was so shallow that Annette wasn’t sure at first if she was alive or dead. “She doesn’t look like she’s been…you know,” Annette hedged uncertainly. Kneeling beside the woman, she felt a faint pulse in the woman’s neck. “I think your theory is disproven.”

“Perhaps,” Felix said with another indifferent shrug. “As I said, I can’t see why else anyone would want to come to a place like this.”

Annette frowned at the body of the woman and checked her pulse again. “Something is wrong with her,” she said slowly, eyebrows furrowed with concentration despite her exhaustion. “Her body is like ice, as if she’s been laying her for days in the cold. Yet she still has a faint pulse. Wouldn’t she have died from exposure by now, if that is the case? It may not be as cold here as in Faerghus but it’s still dangerously cold at night.”

Felix dropped to his knees beside Annette and she couldn’t help but notice how close he felt. She tried not to focus on it and stared hard at the body of the woman in front of them, as if that might be enough of a distraction. Beside her, Felix took the woman’s hand and grimaced. “You’re right,” he agreed slowly, staring at the body suspiciously through narrowed eyes. He pushed the woman’s bangs away from her face and revealed a strange red stone embedded in her forehead. “The hell is this thing?”

“It looks like the thing that we saw when Miklan…” Annette murmured, an edge of fear creeping into her voice. She glanced at Felix and met his sharp amber eyes steadily despite how her hands were beginning to tremble. “I have a bad feeling about this, Felix…”

He was already standing and pulling Annette roughly to her feet before she had a chance to finish the thought. Felix’s grip was firm on her hand as he pulled her several feet away from the dead woman’s body, his expression dark and tinged with worry. In other circumstances, Annette would have been most pleased to be holding Felix’s hand again, as she had been dreaming about just a few minutes before. Certainly, in other circumstances, they wouldn’t be putting space between themselves and a black beast that was horribly reminiscent of the thing that Miklan had become at Conand Tower. 

They stopped several feet away and Felix moved in front of Annette without a word, dropping her hand unceremoniously and drawing his sword from its sheath. His sleepy expression was gone now, and his handsome face was already aglow with the anticipation of a fight. Annette drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves and began preparing a gust of wind to cast at the creature, hoping it would be strong enough to knock the beast over and give Felix an opportunity to stab its unprotected underbelly. He didn’t wait for her to launch the spell, instead fearlessly running forward with his sword glinting dully in the afternoon light. He never did seem able to resist the allure of battle. 

“Felix, be careful!” Annette shouted after him. She felt a sudden stab of fear as she watched him race toward the beast, loose strands of his navy hair streaming behind him like tiny banners. If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it. 

She hastily launched the wind spell at the creature, but it seemed to glance off its hide without much effect. Not wanting to waste time, Annette began preparing another spell and hoped that repeated castings would eventually wear away some of the creature’s armour. She could hear the din of battle rising all around them and became aware that this creature was likely not the only one to be lurking in the ruined chapel. 

_But how did they get here?_ Annette wondered distantly, her blue eyes narrowed in concentration as Felix’s sword clanged ahead of her against the beast’s black skin. _Why are they here? Something about this seems wrong, like it’s been…prepared._

Annette didn’t have time to ponder this feeling as she launched another gale toward the creature rearing above Felix, towering up like a grotesque uprooted tree. It howled with rage as her spell hit it squarely in the chest. The beast staggered back and thrashed its long neck from side to side so that Felix had to dodge nimbly to avoid taking a hit. Even so, Annette could see blood staining his clothes, and saw that he seemed to be favouring his right leg. She wished that she had learned to cast Physic like Mercedes could and heal her partner from a distance, but that spell was far too advanced for Annette’s mediocre white magic. Her best hope was that Felix would survive long enough to fell the beast so that she could heal him in relative safety. 

Repeated spells seemed to be wearing the beast down until finally a resounding crack split the air and its hide broke away just enough to reveal tender flesh beneath. It howled and fell to the ground with an earthshattering shake as Felix thrust his blade into the exposed flesh beneath. He was clutching his side now and his legs seemed unsteady. Despite the grave wound Felix had inflicted, the creature was not yet dead. It shrieked again and stood up once more, its wide mouth open to reveal hundreds of razor-sharp teeth. Annette felt her stomach begin to knot with fear, but she held her ground bravely, setting her feet firmly in place as she reached for her magic. The wind picked up around her, and she felt her hair whip around her face in the gale. Surely, one more hit and the beast would perish, and they would be safe again.

Felix turned and shouted at her, gesticulating wildly with his free hand but Annette couldn’t hear him over the force of the wind she was summoning. The beast was roaring and slashing at the swordsman, but Felix was still facing her and gesturing to her in a vain attempt to convey some sort of meaning. It was too late though; Annette could not move from her place now that the wind was so powerful, a storm nearly ready to be unleashed. He seemed to realize that whatever message he was trying to relay wasn’t working, and with one last look at the beast, Felix turned and dashed straight at Annette. He was still shouting at her.

The beast stood on its hind legs and with another shriek and spit a jet of flame toward Felix’s retreating back. Annette’s eyes widened as Felix ran straight toward her, heedless of the heat hitting him and pushed her to the ground just as she released her spell. They tumbled to the ground roughly, rolling a short distance from where Annette had been standing. The area was covered in fire, which Annette’s wind seemed to have fanned into a rather more dangerous flame than it otherwise would have been. The beast had still taken damage from her attack, so it hadn’t been a total waste, but now they were too far to reach it without having to run through the fire.

“We need to destroy the thing on its head!” Annette cried, pointing at the red crystal. Her breathing was coming in short gasps, and she wasn’t sure she could stand steadily to cast another spell for a moment. The gale had taken more force than she had anticipated. “Felix, try your magic!”

He was panting and covered in blood, his face looking gaunt and dirty from the battle. He probably didn’t have much strength left to cast anything at all. Annette could feel her own magical reserves depleting rapidly, and her shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. It was unfair to ask him to do this, she knew, but his magic had a better chance of cracking the jewel than hers did at this point. Annette was painfully aware that this was a risk; Felix had not yet been able to cast a spell with any degree of competency. He’d only managed a small spark of flame and a weak bolt of lightning in their last session. It seemed an eon ago that they had practiced.

Felix was staring at her as if she had begun speaking another language entirely. They were kneeling in the dirt together as the beast began to regain its feet and roared menacingly as it caught sight of its prey. 

“If it doesn’t work, we’re done for,” Felix said in a strangely calm voice. His breathing was beginning to slow again, though his face still looked pale beneath the blood and dirt. “Your magic is more reliable.”

Annette shook her head and balled her hands into little fists. “I know,” she said pleadingly. “I know that but…if you can cast a thunder spell, it might be strong enough to destroy that thing. I don’t know if I can manage a strong enough spell. And…” Annette added softly, glancing at the blood staining his school uniform. “You need healing. I need to save my strength for that.”

Felix didn’t say anything for a long moment. Annette could tell he was thinking hard about her suggestion, weighing the likelihood of success. She wondered if he was weighing the cost of their lives against this ridiculous scheme, and then wondered briefly how much he cared about her life. He had said before he would never leave someone in need to die if he could help. 

Finally, he stood and faced the creature that was bearing down upon them, stepping through the fire careless of the embers at its feet. Felix left his sword on the ground beside him and stood motionless, his hands raised in front of his chest to channel the magic he was summoning. Annette watched him from her place on the ground and felt her skin prickle with the tingling sensation that mages noticed when other spellcasters were at work nearby. She could hear the magic crackling in the air around them and could see the electricity gathering around Felix’s fingers. 

He didn’t wait for the creature to reach them before releasing the spell. For one horrible moment, Annette thought it wasn’t going to work, that the spell would fizzle into nothingness like so many times before. She wondered what she could do that happened and considered how much energy she could spare for another attack. Annette didn’t know if it would be enough to kill the creature, nor if Felix would be strong enough to continue using his sword to finish the job. He had been right, as he so often was; they would die if this didn’t work.

Thunder ripped into the darkness of Annette’s thoughts, tearing apart the fabric of her worries and illuminating the enemy in an eerie light. It stumbled and howled with pain, and with an ear-splitting _crack,_ the crystal on its forehead broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Its body fell to the ground and disintegrated into nothingness, leaving the broken body of the dead student behind. Annette sat in stunned silence as the aftermath of the battle washed over her. Felix turned slowly, his breathing shallow and short, though his eyes were as fiercely bright as when he had first engaged their foe. 

“It is done,” he said in a rasping voice. He grunted with a sudden wave of pain and awkwardly pitched forward onto his knees, clutching his bleeding side once more. 

“Oh, Felix!” Annette cried, her own voice somewhere between joyful and terrified. She scrambled over to him. “Let me see your wounds. I can heal you, at least a little.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, not meeting her gaze. He still clutched his side, trying to hide how the blood was seeping through his fingers. “Are you hurt?”

Annette shook her head vigorously and reached to pry his fingers away. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “You took all the hits from that thing. Please, the least I can do is heal you.”

Reluctantly, Felix removed his hand from his side and peeled back the fabric of his torn jacket. The white shirt beneath was ripped and hanging awkwardly, revealing a deep gash that made Annette’s stomach squirm. Steeling her resolve, she placed both hands against Felix’s side and closed her eyes, reaching for the healing magic just as Mercedes had taught her. She felt a warmth around her hands as the magic took hold and spread to envelop Felix’s wound in a soothing light. She could hear him sigh in relief and relax slightly under her touch.

Pulling her hands away, Annette examined her handiwork. The wound was not gone, not the way that Mercedes or Professor Manuela could repair it perfectly, but it would do for now. It was no longer bleeding and a faint pink scar had taken its place. “Don’t aggravate it,” she warned Felix, moving behind him to examine his back. He had wounds all over his body, and Annette knew she couldn’t possibly heal them all with her limited expertise in white magic, but she wanted to do all she could.

“Annette, leave them,” Felix said in a strained voice. He didn’t turn his head to look at her, but the tips of his ears were red. “They’ll be fine until I can get to the infirmary.”

“You’re losing blood,” Annette replied in a tone that she hoped brooked no argument. The cuts on his back were numerous and bleeding profusely, though they didn’t seem as deep as the one on his side had been. “I can help, so stop being an idiot and let me do my job.”

Felix made a sound like he intended to say something back but closed his mouth with an audible snap. Annette felt her face burn as she silently placed her hands against his back and closed her eyes again. The warmth of the healing magic cloaked her hands once more and she directed it to close the multitude of wounds Felix had sustained during their battle. _I’m just doing my job,_ Annette thought resolutely. _This is why the Professor wanted me to learn white magic. Mercedes has enough to do without adding anyone else to the list._

Sitting back after a moment, Annette sighed heavily and tried to catch her breath. Healing was just as intense as casting spells and left her feeling drained. “That should do for now,” Annette said. “Now you won’t bleed out before you get to Professor Manuela.”

Felix stretched experimentally and nodded his head once. 

“Thank you,” he said gruffly. He had taken his sword and wiped away what gore he could with his dirtied jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe not,” she agreed with a grin. “But I never leave anyone to suffer when I can help.”

Felix allowed himself a small smile then. “We need to report back to the Professor,” he said finally, turning his amber gaze back the way they had come. The sounds of battle were becoming fainter now and Annette hoped that meant that the other beasts were dying too. She desperately hoped nobody had suffered fatal injuries. “There may be more beasts to finish off.”

They hurried forward in silence. There was no energy for a song, and Annette didn’t feel it was appropriate now, not after they had almost died to a black beast. They didn’t even know how the rest of their class was faring. Felix prowled ahead of her with his sword drawn, reminding Annette of a wolf ranging ahead as it caught the scent of prey. He loved battle, she knew, and loved the thrill of a fight. Felix had never denied it, never made it a secret that his sole purpose in life was to become stronger. He was single-mindedly focused on his goal and it wasn’t Annette’s place to distract him from it with her songs or her feelings. She let herself fall back from him, not wanting to intrude on his moment of glory.

Annette watched Felix outrange her and understood that she was only hurting herself with these missions, she knew they would never exist in the same space forever. Their goals would never align, their futures would never coincide, and they would never see each other again after Garreg Mach. Even if they did both attend the Millennium Festival in five years, there was a very great chance that they would not maintain the friendship they had now during that time. They would probably hardly know each other at that point. Annette felt a twinge of sorrow in her chest and tried to suppress it. She didn’t want to think about the future yet.

Lost in thoughts of her own, Annette didn’t notice Felix stop in place until he caught hold of her arm. She looked at him in surprise, her blue eyes wide as she came back to the present and opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. He shook his head before she could get the words out and pointed wordlessly toward the ruined chapel tower ahead of them. Annette’s eyes widened and her body felt limp in Felix’s slackening grip. She raised shaking hands to cover her mouth and felt tears welling in her eyes.

Professor Byleth knelt on the ground ahead of them, her head downcast and her face covered by her hair. In her arms, she cradled her father’s dead body while the knife that had been used to kill him lay upon the ground beside them. Rain had begun to fall now, as if the Goddess herself was weeping for this tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the beginning of the angst! Not to worry, there will still be fluff but soon the angst will take over :) Not much longer now and we'll be at the timeskip. I really wanted to explore Annette's feelings since we didn't get to see her perspective of the ball, so I wanted this chapter to feel a lot more personal in that regard. 
> 
> I did try really hard to think of some sort of analogous term for Christmas that would fit the Fódlan world, but I couldn't think of anything :( Until right now as I write this...Yunetide would have been a pretty good play on Yuletide (and a cute callback to FE10), but it's too late now :( So instead we get to talk about Christmas in Faerghus without actually mentioning the word! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one! I'll be back this weekend with the next installment. Thank you for reading and commenting <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	17. A Merciful Goddess

The death of Captain Jeralt shook the Monastery to its core, and no one was more affected by this than Professor Byleth. Classes were cancelled for several days immediately following the events at the ruined chapel, and even once they resumed, she was as withdrawn as when she had first arrived at Garreg Mach. She no longer smiled or laughed, and her blue eyes held a world of sorrow that few people could fathom. As such, the mood among the Blue Lions was subdued and sombre, and no one quite knew how to approach their teacher in the wake of this fresh wound. 

Captain Jeralt had been buried in the graveyard at the Monastery alongside the wife he had left here so long ago in a small private ceremony. The Blue Lion class had all attended, of course, wearing somber looks and dark cloaks over their school uniforms. Annette had stood with Mercedes and Ingrid and failed to hold back tears as they watched the Captain lowered into the ground. They had clung to each other and wondered how Professor Byleth could stand with her back straight and her eyes dry even at a time like this. She possessed an inner strength that Annette didn’t know if she could match. 

It has been said that there is no rest for the wicked. A mere week passed after Captain Jeralt’s burial before the Blue Lion’s received word of their next mission in the Sealed Forest in hopes of catching the Captain’s murderer. Annette thought it was horribly unfair to force Professor Byleth into such an emotional encounter so soon after the loss, but the older woman’s eyes practically glowed with anticipation of the fight and a desire for revenge. 

_If the Goddess was merciful, she would not have let this happen,_ Annette thought fiercely as they stood amongst the trees of the Sealed Forest, feeling the remnants of magical energy swirl around the tips of her fingers. _She would have given the Professor some respite to deal with the death of Captain Jeralt._

She had said as much to Mercedes prior to their deployment and her friend had only spread her hands helplessly in front of her. “The Goddess moves in mysterious ways,” she had said gently, her faith as steadfast as always. “We can only move forward to meet the future with our heads held high. Sometimes, we can only live by facing despair head-on with no time to dwell on the sorrow.”

Annette knew that Mercedes was right, that it did not do to wallow in sadness. Death came for everyone eventually, and they faced the possibility of death in every battle. They could die here, she knew, facing more mysterious black beasts. Yet the Professor led them into battle with her own head high despite the sorrow in her heart and she wielded the Sword of the Creator with more ferocity than ever before. Annette thought she could understand some small part of what Professor Byleth was feeling and what she hoped to accomplish. She desperately hoped that the Professor would not lose herself in a quest for revenge. 

The Sealed Forest was dark, but Annette felt no real fear as she followed her comrades into battle. She could see Professor Byleth leading their charge and heard the snap of her sword cut though her enemies like reeds beside a pond. Ingrid flew above them on a white pegasus, her lance darting into foes like a vengeful Valkyrie from the old legends. Ashe stood nearby with his bowstring taut, his aim impeccably felling enemies before they could close in on their little band. Even the roar of black beasts surrounding them failed to cause noticeable panic. 

Trust was as much an ally as any single person could be, and Annette had learned to trust her friends with her own life. No one had ever let her down or left her for dead. 

“Don’t stray ahead,” Felix had instructed her as they had approached the forest, his amber eyes flinty. “Stay with the group and don’t get separated.”

“I won’t,” Annette had promised, understanding that breaking off from the group could easily mean her death. “Don’t you be reckless either. I can’t heal you if you get too far away.”

He had smirked then, his shadowed face betraying a hint of what looked like pleasure. “I’m never reckless,” he had assured her in a steady voice. It was the same response he always gave. “I didn’t realize you were our resident healer now.”

“I’m not!” Annette had replied indignantly and stamping her foot as if to drive the point home. “But I want to help Mercie if I can. And I would rather you didn’t die.”

She hadn’t meant to say that. 

“I’d rather not die either,” Felix had said after a moment’s silence. He had looked at her appraisingly, as if unsure whether he ought to continue. When he did, his voice was low, and Annette had strained to hear the words. “I wouldn’t be able to hear your songs if I died.”

She had wanted to fling back a witty response, something along the lines of “I don’t want you to hear my songs anyway!” but Annette knew it would be a lie and that she was a bad liar. She hadn’t expected that feeling either. She was left standing alone when he walked away, those last words echoing in her head as she tried to think of something to say back. Felix always seemed to leave her feeling disoriented and unsure of herself, making her voice disappear and her heart beat too fast in her chest. She had never meant to develop such an inconvenient crush on such a peculiar man. 

Annette couldn’t allow herself to become distracted now though. The Professor had ranged ahead of the group with Dimitri following behind her closely, his lance dripping with the blood of a black beast. They stood in front of a strange stone dais in the middle of this strange, dark forest and Annette felt the familiar prickle of magic in the air on her skin. It sent a shiver of fear down her spine and she turned to meet Mercedes’ wide violet eyes. They did not need words; one glance was enough to solidify Annette’s unease. 

_This is dark magic,_ Annette thought as she turned her eyes back toward the Professor. She was striding toward the old man in the centre of the strange altar without a hint of fear in her bearing. _There is nothing we can do to stop it._

Fearlessness did not mean safety, of course. 

The Professor let out a wordless cry filled with anguish and leaped forward with her blade drawn. Her blue eyes were fixed on the old sorcerer ahead which was evidentially a mistake. Annette watched with horror as the dark magic increased in intensity, enveloping Professor Byleth in a strange dark light that seemed to rip the very fabric of the world. She disappeared without a sound, as if she had never even existed. Silence gripped the Blue Lions.

“What is this sorcery?” Dimitri’s voice broke the stillness like ice, low and forbidding. “What happened to our Professor?”

The strange sorcerer stood in front of the prince and laughed pitilessly. “She was swallowed by the darkness of the forbidden spell,” he replied jovially, as if this were some great accomplishment. Annette felt sick listening to the levity in his voice. “She is lost to the void. She will _never_ return to this world.”

Annette hadn’t intended to say anything here either, but like always, she spoke without thinking. “That’s a lie! There’s no way the Professor is really dead!” she shouted, denying the evidence of her own eyes, not wanting it to be true.

She could feel the others looking at her. They probably thought she was insane to deny what they had all witnessed. 

“That’s right!” Flayn agreed in a shrill voice. Annette had never seen her looking so thunderous. “Our Professor is no ordinary human. She lives, I am sure of it!”

The sorcerer did not seem concerned with these denials. He shrugged lazily. “Perhaps not yet,” he said with a rasping laugh. “Yet there are things worse than death.”

“You will pay for this with your life,” Dimitri snarled. He seemed to have forgotten there were others with them. “We will save her as soon as we are finished with _you._ ”

Felix glanced at Dimitri with a look of pure disgust. “The boar rears its ugly head,” he muttered. 

“I’ll slice you into a thousand pieces,” the prince continued, pointing his bloody lance at the sorcerer. “You will know true pain before I allow you to die.”

“Empty words,” the man waved a hand dismissively, as though Dimitri’s promises were mere bluster. “You cannot harm me just as you can do nothing to reach her. Try it and you will die as well.”

Dimitri roared wordlessly and rushed forward with his weapon thrust reaching toward the man on dais. The sorcerer dodged easily and the lance bit nothing but air. The prince was not deterred as he spun in a circle to reacquire his target. Felix had sprung forward too, his blade drawn and his face a mask of rage. The sorcerer seemed at ease, throwing both of them back with little more than a flick of each hand. Annette felt her stomach drop at the sight of Felix slamming into the ground and began reaching for her magic before she fully realized what she was doing. 

She didn’t know what she could do to help. If neither Felix nor Dimitri could land a blow against this man, what good would her wind magic do? Annette hated feeling powerless. She had worked so hard to get this far, and she couldn’t bear the thought of failing here. 

_If the Goddess was merciful,_ she thought spitefully as she raised her eyes heavenward, _She would not have allowed the Professor to die here!_

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, the sky rumbled ominously. Magic prickled in the air again and sent another shiver of fear down Annette’s spine. The sorcerer on the dais abruptly stopped his attacks against Dimitri and Felix, both of whom were breathing heavily as they stood side by side against the onslaught of magic. The old man raised his eyes to the sky above as a new tear formed above them. Annette’s mouth hung open as the magic grew in force, and she covered her eyes to shield them from the brightness above.

“You will not kill me so easily,” Professor Byleth said with a dangerous edge in her voice. 

She stood before them again on the dais with the Sword of the Creator glowing in her hand. Annette stared in stunned disbelief at her reappearance, unsure if what she was seeing was real or an illusion brought on by exhaustion. The Professor _had_ returned and Annette could no more explain how it had happened than she could explain anything else that had occurred that day. There was something undeniably different about their Professor though, something beyond just the inexplicable change to her hair and eyes. She radiated power that far outstripped anything Annette had ever felt. 

_Perhaps the Goddess is merciful after all,_ Annette thought as she reached again for her magic. _We may have a chance to win this fight!_

\---

Several days passed in relative peace after the battle in the Sealed Forest. Annette was grateful for this and spent much of her spare time sleeping to restore her energy. Magic was draining and using it so frequently was beginning to wear her down. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of overuse; Mercedes was spending more time resting too. Annette felt like she was wasting time by sleeping so much, but she knew it would be for the better; she couldn’t afford to fall ill so near to the end of the year. Exams were coming and she needed all her strength to pass them. 

As her energy returned, Annette began to venture around the Monastery grounds once more, wrapped in a long cloak to ward against the cold winter wind. Sometimes, she would see Professor Byleth conversing with staff members in low voices, her green eyes deeper and more pensive than they had been before. Classes were much the same as they had been before, yet the Professor seemed intent on assigning them more individual work lately than usual, as though her focus was elsewhere. Annette didn’t mind this change of pace very much and hoped that they would no longer need to go out into the field on missions as exam preparations loomed. 

Nonetheless, she worried that she hadn’t been able to convince her father to speak to her all year, much less to return home to the life he had left behind. She didn’t have long left to accomplish her goal, and Annette couldn’t help but think her whole plan had been pointless after all. How would she manage to do this once she graduated and left Garreg Mach behind? She was certain that she would never have a better chance than the way things were right now. After all, small though they were, Annette was heiress to the Dominic lands. She would need to prepare to take on those duties one day, and no doubt her uncle would arrange a beneficial marriage to ensure the survival of the family line. Annette tried not to think about Felix when this thought came to mind, but it became harder with each passing day.

Feeling rather more nettled about the end of the year approaching than she wanted to admit, Annette stood abruptly at her study table in the library and shoved her books into her bag. 

_I’m getting nothing done,_ she thought irritably. _I can’t focus right now. I need a break._

It was already late into the night but there were many students studying late nowadays, both the high achievers like herself and Lysithea as well as some of the stragglers in each of the three classes. A few people in the library shot her annoyed glances as she slung the bookbag over her shoulder and hurried out of the room, but Annette paid them no heed. Pulling her cloak closer around herself, she wandered aimlessly through the halls of Garreg Mach as her thoughts chased each other in circles around her head. 

_There will be no further opportunities for me after this,_ Annette reflected with a tinge of sadness. _All that work for nothing._

The Cathedral was deserted when she arrived in its grand hall. Moonlight filtered in through the high windows and bathed the nave in a cool light. It was serene in the absence of worshippers, a holy place that actually _felt_ holy to Annette. She sat in a pew at the front of the room staring up at the likeness of the Goddess, tall and proud with her hand outstretched to the congregation in a gesture of benediction. The marble carving was beautiful, but Annette thought it lacked a realness as she gazed at the blank, soulless eyes. Perhaps she was just feeling especially peevish that evening; she had never been an art connoisseur. 

Annette was fairly devoted as far as believers in the Goddess went, and she had always attended weekly prayers with her mother while she lived at home. She had continued to go with Mercedes while they attended the Royal School of Sorcery and at Garreg Mach, praying always for her mother’s smile and her father’s return home. Annette was not one to pray for herself, rarely asking for anything because she was happiest when those around her were also happy. It felt presumptuous to ask anything for herself when there were others in the world who needed her prayers more.

Sitting alone in the grand Cathedral of Garreg Mach late one evening, Annette decided that perhaps one small prayer for herself would not be so selfish and it might even ease her heavy heart. She sat in silence for several minutes with her head bowed and hands clasped together reverently, but no words of worship came to mind. It was so much easier to offer prayers for someone else; praying for herself seemed more difficult. She wondered if she needed to say anything at all, or if the Goddess would understand a wordless jumble of emotions just as easily. 

“I hope this song reaches the Goddess’ ears,” Mercedes always said during their choir practices, her smile genuine and kind. 

_Could I offer a song as a prayer?_ Annette wondered thoughtfully. The statue of the Goddess made no reply, her hand still outstretched to receive whatever Annette chose to offer. Perhaps a prayer didn’t need to be so formal. 

Annette felt a little foolish as she cleared her throat noisily and raised her eyes back to the Goddess’ face. Her voice was strained at first, the opening lines a little choppy, but the song she sang was both a comfort and a prayer.

_The darkness of night begins to fade  
Old fears begin to fly away  
As the bright sun rises   
So too does my hope with the Goddess of Dawn_

_My sorrows cling to my heart  
My past haunts my future  
I feel alone in this world until  
I hear the voice of the Goddess of Dawn_

_I stand before your altar at dawn  
Holding my fears and my dreams in trembling hands  
As the bright sun rises  
I place my hope in the Goddess of Dawn_

Annette let her voice fade after the third verse and listened to the way the final note echoed pleasantly through the empty Cathedral. The statue of the Goddess remained immobile and unfeeling, but she felt as though somehow the song had lightened her heart considerably. Music had been her mother’s joy in life and Annette had almost forgotten how important it had been to her as well over the years. Her mother used to sing all the time at home, silly songs about nothing in particular as well as beautiful pieces of her own composition. “Music is the food of the soul,” her mother had told Annette when she was a child. “It can warm the heart of even the most stoic warrior.”

_The most stoic warrior huh?_ Annette allowed herself a small smile as she stood and adjusted the cloak around her legs and swung her bag back over her shoulder. She felt as though someone was watching her and glanced once more at the statue of the Goddess’ sightless eyes. Shaking her head, Annette turned and walked back down the centre aisle with her head held high and her mind wandering far from the dark shadows gathered in the corners of the moonlit room. _I wonder if he would have enjoyed this song too._

\---

He had not meant to follow Annette when she left the library that night. In fact, Felix had not meant to be _in_ the library that night at all, but he was behind on some work and needed to spend some time away from the training grounds to finish it. Sitting on the second floor of the library at a desk all to himself, he had secured a clear view of Annette sitting below with a variety of large tomes piled around her. Finishing his own work had proved to be more difficult than Felix had anticipated once he realized she was there. For a brief moment, he had even considered going down to join her but decided that she might think it strange for them to study together when they weren’t practicing magic. Felix couldn’t remember the last time he had _wanted_ to study with someone of his own volition, and he definitely couldn’t recall a time when he had been reluctant to do so.

Felix had been slumped over his own half-completed essay when he heard a sudden _thump_ far below and saw Annette clasping her bookbag closed. Momentarily disoriented, he watched Annette fasten her cloak about her shoulders and flounce out of the room before his instincts took over and he, too, hastily packed his things. Fumbling with the clasp of his own cloak, Felix hurried loudly down the stairs—inviting more annoyed glances than even Annette’s exit had done—and out the door after her for no discernable reason. He _knew_ it was ridiculous to want to follow her. He didn’t even know where she was going.

Annette hadn’t pulled her hood up so her bright orange hair bobbed like a beacon ahead of him as she walked through the silent halls of Garreg Mach. Felix could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest with the thrill of following Annette and desperately not wanting to be seen. He couldn’t explain why it was so vital that she didn’t see him, but Felix had never been more certain of anything in his life. When she heaved open the heavy door to the Cathedral, Felix dashed forward to slip in after her before it shut again. 

_This is all kinds of ridiculous,_ he thought as he huddled in the shadows at the very back of the Cathedral, the hood of his cloak pulled up to obscure his face as much as possible. _What is wrong with me?_

For a long time, Annette did nothing but sit in a pew. Felix huddled in the shadows behind her, his amber eyes fixed on the back of her head. They were alone before the statue of the Goddess, and Felix knew there was no way now for him to announce his presence without inviting awkward (and perfectly reasonable) questions. His heart continued to beat faster than normal as he tried to even his breathing and remain perfectly still in the darkness. 

_Why am I here?_ he wondered again, mentally berating himself for a fool. 

He didn’t want to admit that he simply liked being near Annette. He didn’t want to admit that she made him happy, that he wanted to hear her sing again, and that her sharp intellect attracted him. Felix didn’t want to admit that he was falling in love with a woman that he had known for less than a year or that he was trying to avoid the consequences of those feelings almost as much as he avoided dealing with his father. Yet watching Annette sit silently in the Cathedral with her head bowed in prayer piqued Felix’s curiosity. He tried (not very successfully) not to wonder for whom it was that she was praying.

When Annette’s clear voice broke the stillness of the night, Felix jumped in alarm and almost dropped his own heavy schoolbag on the floor, a feat which would have surely given away his position. He stood there stupidly with his mouth hanging open as Annette’s voice filled the room with a sweet melody that made his heart beat even faster, if that was possible. Some distant part of Felix’s mind realized that he hadn’t thought about how she must be able to sing more complex songs than simply her own _Crumbs and Yums_ composition, and he inwardly cursed himself for an idiot. He really hadn’t gotten to know her as well as he wanted over these past months.

_That was the point though, wasn’t it?_ Felix thought sourly, pulling his cloak closer around himself and sinking backward further into the shadows. His eyes held Annette as she stared up again at the statue of the Goddess, her beautiful voice silent now and the Cathedral echoing with the last fading vestiges of her song. _I can’t allow myself to care about anyone. We’ll go our separate ways in only a few short weeks and all of this will end permanently. We’ll forget about each other._

Watching Annette leave the Cathedral, her expression pensive and withdrawn, Felix knew he was lying to himself. She might forget about him after they left the Monastery, but he couldn’t muster the strength to fool himself into believing he would forget the sound of her voice or the words to any of her songs. Burying his face in his hands, Felix wondered how he had let this happen, how he had managed to do the one thing he had vowed never to do. 

Stepping into the moonlight himself, Felix stood motionless in front of the statue of the Goddess and stared at her in the same way as Annette had done. He was not a prayerful man, preferring to put his faith in his sword alone, yet as he stood alone in the Cathedral of Garreg Mach, Felix sighed heavily and fell to his knees. The stone floor was cold against his knees and the hood of his cloak slid down to reveal his dark rumpled hair as he bowed his own head. He didn’t know what he was doing, if what he wanted was to offer a prayer or a rebuke to the Goddess, but he supposed in the end it didn’t really matter. 

“If you are merciful,” Felix whispered into the night, his amber eyes reflecting the Goddess and her outstretched hand. “You would take these feelings away from me and allow me to go back to the man I was before.”

The Goddess said nothing, her blank marble eyes staring straight ahead and her smile reminding Felix of mocking laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found the Sealed Forest really difficult to put into writing. It feels more Byleth-centric with the focus on Kronya and Thales, but Annette and Felix didn't even see Kronya in the last chapter, so I thought it would be a bit odd to add her in for like 3 sentences before she dies....so I just left it at Thales instead for simplicity. Still, I found it harder to write than any of the other battles so far, so I hope it was still satisfying.
> 
> I'm also fully convinced that Annette can sing more formal songs than just the ones she makes up, so that's how we ended up in the Cathedral :) I wanted to explore their introspective thoughts in this chapter, so I enjoyed writing that scene in particular.
> 
> The next chapter is the last one before the timeskip, and it's quite a bit longer than this one. Then we have the timeskip chapter followed by the post-timeskip storyline. It feels like forever, but I'm super excited to share it with you all! Thank you for reading and for your lovely comments! See you on Tuesday <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	18. See You Again

Felix had been keeping a close eye on Dimitri ever since he had arrived at Garreg Mach, and he was therefore unsurprised to see his old friend sinking further into madness. The boar had reared his ugly head during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, and things had only gotten worse since then, surfacing again in Remire Village and in the Sealed Forest. Sylvain and Ingrid had dismissed Felix’s observations as exaggeration, telling him that there was nothing wrong with the prince, that he was merely passionately invested in securing victory during each battle they fought. Felix knew better, but he had long since given up trying to convince anyone of Dimitri’s mental instability. Even Dimitri would deny it, telling Felix he worried too much and that he ought to focus on his own training instead.

When Professor Byleth, her oddly bright green eyes flashing with an inner power that she had not previously displayed, had requested the Blue Lions to accompany her and Lady Rhea into the depths of the Monastery on a fool’s errand in the Holy Tomb, Felix could feel the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end with anxiety. He glanced involuntarily at Dimitri and saw the simmering anger in his blue eyes, bubbling just beneath the surface as it had been for the last several years. The prince was getting worse at hiding it, Felix noted with a grim feeling of validation, which meant that it would inevitably begin to take full control of Dimitri’s life.

“Of course we will accompany you,” Dimitri assured Professor Byleth in a deceptively mild tone. He leaned against the doorframe of the classroom looking at ease in his impeccable uniform, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest. “You have only but to ask and it shall be done.”

Professor Byleth smiled gratefully at Dimitri and Felix had to resist the urge to retch. Everyone was so blind to the walking disaster in their midst, encouraging his battle prowess and laughing at his bad jokes, never once _thinking_ about how dangerous the boar prince truly was. Far be it from Felix to warn those who willfully ignored the signs of Dimitri’s collapse; they would all learn soon enough what kind of man Dimitri had become since the Tragedy of Duscur.

_Even my old man wouldn’t be able to contain this beast,_ Felix thought sourly as Dimitri conferred with Professor Byleth in a quiet voice. Dimitri’s body was rigid, every movement sharp and dangerous, as if he might lash out at any moment at the nearest bystander. 

“We do not expect any trouble,” Professor Byleth said, her voice cool and level and watching Dimitri closely. The Sword of the Creator hung at her side, one hand resting on its hilt to remind everyone of the power she bore. “But I think it’s best to be safe rather than sorry, especially with Lady Rhea present.”

“Too many strange events have happened this year,” Ingrid said with a shake of her head. “It would be unwise to test fate.”

“When do we depart?” Dedue asked calmly, his face betraying no hint of concern. Felix scowled and looked away, disgusted by Dedue’s blind loyalty to the prince. “Preparations need to be completed before the mission.”

“Tomorrow, after the dawn prayers,” the Professor replied gravely. “Lady Rhea wishes to pay her respects to the Goddess before we descend into the Holy Tomb.”

Mercedes sighed and frowned slightly, her eyebrows knitting together thoughtfully. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly, stroking her chin with two fingers and staring directly at Professor Byleth. “I thought the Holy Mausoleum was supposed to be Saint Seiros’ final resting place. What could possibly be the purpose of this place?”

Professor Byleth shrugged indifferently and shook her head. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “It does not matter. We have been tasked with this mission, and we will see it through to the end.”

Mercedes did not look terribly comforted by this statement, but she said nothing further despite how her frown deepened. Felix had not spent much time around Mercedes, but he couldn’t deny she had a good head on her shoulders. They did not know the purpose of this mission, and that feeling didn’t sit well with Felix either; regardless of whether or not there could be a fight, it was beyond foolish to accept a mission with so little information. Where was this place? What was its purpose? Why were they visiting it? What did Lady Rhea hope to gain?

_There are too many unknowns,_ Felix thought. He ran a hand absently through his dark hair and glanced again at Dimitri. His face was pale and bloodless, but his eyes continued to glow with the ferocity of revenge. _I don’t like the sound of this mission. Lady Rhea would not ask us serve as a guard if there wasn’t a possibility of danger._

“The Holy Mausoleum could be a decoy tomb,” Annette interjected unexpectedly. Everyone turned to look at her and she flushed pink to the tips of her ears. “I mean…it is opened once a year to visitors, but no one knows of this Holy Tomb. Saint Seiros’ remains weren’t even in the Holy Mausoleum, so maybe they’re in this place?”

Felix nodded approvingly at her analysis. It was a good theory, even if they didn’t have any real evidence to suggest it was correct. If it was true, or even close to the mark, it would give a plausible reason for why Lady Rhea wanted the Blue Lions to serve as an escort. Their mysterious enemy had infiltrated the Holy Mausoleum, so there was a chance they would do the same to this Holy Tomb, if they knew of its existence. Felix had no idea what anyone would want with the bones of a woman long dead, but even with his rudimentary knowledge of dark magic, Felix knew the remains could be used for some nefarious purpose. 

“It’s possible,” Sylvain agreed, his voice cutting across Felix’s thoughts. “Well, if there _is_ any trouble, we’ll need to be there to protect the beautiful Lady Rhea. Right, Felix?”

“Leave me out of this,” Felix shot back scathingly, glaring at Sylvain and crossing his arms defensively. “ _You_ can go ahead and be her self-appointed guard. _I’ll_ be fighting for myself.”

Sylvain raised his eyebrows, lips quirking into a smirk Felix recognized all too well. He didn’t need to say anything; Felix knew what his friend was thinking. He settled for glaring at Sylvain, his fingers flexing absently around the hilt of his sword. He was aware of the rest of the class staring at them, waiting to see if they would break into a duel. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Ingrid roll her eyes and mutter something under her breath that made even the mad prince grin smugly. Felix had a sudden urge to turn on him instead and leave Sylvain for later; it _would_ be satisfying to best Dimitri in single combat, to show him what a real warrior could accomplish in battle. 

“Enough,” Professor Byleth interrupted, holding up one hand to forestall any further argument. “Dedue is correct—we must prepare now for the mission tomorrow. It is possible nothing will happen, but we must be ready. Go now and make ready.”

The Blue Lion students began to break off into twos and threes as they left the room to make their preparations for the morning’s mission. Ingrid pulled Sylvain away with a firm grip on his arm, ignoring his protests and telling him that he “had better get his lance repaired since it had been on the verge of irreversible damage for weeks.” Felix suspected this was a tactic to separate them before Sylvain could do anything to further antagonize his friend, and for once, Felix was grateful for Ingrid’s busybody personality. He forcibly let go of his sword as Sylvain’s red hair disappeared out of sight and made to follow Annette and Mercedes out of the room, a small part of him wondering if it would look odd to casually follow them in the same direction for a time. 

“Felix, wait a moment, if you would,” Dimitri said quietly as he brushed past. 

“I have business,” Felix lied irritably, pausing in the doorway and glancing at the prince’s pale face. His blond hair was beginning to look a bit long and ragged, as though he had stopped taking care of it entirely. “Can’t this wait?”

Dimitri’s haunted eyes held Felix’s steely amber gaze steadily and looked unconvinced. “I wanted to spar with you,” the prince said smoothly, his voice more level than Felix had expected. “I suppose if you’re busy it can wait…”

“You haven’t wanted to spar in months,” Felix said shrewdly, crossing his arms and silently cursing his luck that Dimitri would show an interest in sparring at the one time when Felix had wanted to be elsewhere than in the training grounds. He had been hoping to hear Annette’s soothing voice raised in song again. “Why the sudden interest now?”

Dimitri didn’t smile, his face a close approximation of Dedue’s stoic expression. “I had the impression you were avoiding me in the sparring ring,” the prince replied coolly. “Surely you are not afraid to lose?”

It wasn’t an answer to Felix’s question and the accusation stung all the more because it was closer to the truth than Felix wanted to acknowledge. “I’m not scared of a beast,” he replied haughtily, turning slowly and heading toward the training grounds instead. “If you think you can defeat me, you’re welcome to try.”

As Felix had expected, Dimitri fought like a cornered animal, movements jerky and uncoordinated with an expression of savage pride marring his otherwise handsome face. Felix held his blade tightly, his focus entirely on Dimitri and predicting his next move, the melody of his favourite song echoing quietly in the back of his mind. The prince had a wild look in his eyes, as though he was not really seeing Felix in front of him when he thrust the lance forward hoping to skewer an opponent that was not there. 

Felix could remember sparring with Dimitri when they were young and how the prince would usually win with his bigger size and longer reach. The losses had fueled Felix’s drive to become stronger, to train more diligently with his brother and hone his skill to a fine edge. He had never begrudged Dimitri those wins; they were fairly won and had served to show Felix exactly where his weaknesses needed to be corrected. Standing opposite Dimitri now and blocking his vicious attacks with an ease he had never had before, Felix wondered how much stronger he had actually become after all these years of training. He had been lucky to have such strong sparring partners in his old friends, but would he be winning this match if Dimitri were sane? Defeating a boar was so much easier than a man. 

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Dimitri grunted in a strained voice, his blue eyes cold. “All your training has been worthwhile.”

“And you’ve gotten sloppier,” Felix snapped back with a hot ferocity in his chest, his own eyes a mirror of Dimitri’s. “You’ll die fighting like this.”

“Dying would be a blessing,” Dimitri snarled, disengaging backwards a few paces and thrusting his lance toward Felix again. “They won’t let me die though. Not yet.”

“You’re a fool, fighting for the dead,” Felix growled as his sword scraped against Dimitri’s lance. He thought of Glenn’s mangled corpse in a coffin and the way his face had looked so oddly peaceful in death, unaware of the mourners surrounding his body. “They’ll never know if you managed to avenge them or not. You’re wasting your time.”

Dimitri made a strangled wordless sound in his throat and redoubled his attack against Felix. He parried the blow easily, not bothering to mask his disdain for Dimitri. The prince had always had a flair for the dramatic, probably a trait he had picked up from Sylvain when they were children. “As if you’re one to talk,” Dimitri spat, his face so close to Felix’s that he could hear the prince’s ragged breathing. “You don’t fight for anyone but yourself. What good is strength if you don’t use it for something?”

Felix swung his blade harder than necessary and Dimitri deflected it carelessly as he stuck out a foot to try and trip Felix as he recovered. “I fight to live,” Felix replied with a note of real anger in his voice. “I don’t intend to die fighting for the dead.”

It was a familiar argument. Felix knew the steps to this dance well, knew how this would end. It was the fundamental difference that had grown between them ever since the events in Duscur. Dimitri was burdened with blind loyalty to people long dead who would never know nor care if he avenged them. Felix could see Glenn’s corpse whenever he closed his eyes, and he had vowed to never end up like that, dead to protect someone else as his sole purpose in life. He certainly had no intention of dying to protect Dimitri, a fatalistic fool overcome with grief and unable to see past the dead. 

“You of all people should understand the importance of avenging them,” Dimitri growled, his tone desperate for some kind of validation of his fascination with the dead. “Surely you haven’t forgotten Glenn. Surely you want to avenge him.”

Felix felt his body surge forward before his mind had fully processed the words. He slammed into Dimitri with enough force to knock the other man off balance and pinned him against the wall, sword inches from his neck. Dimitri glared at him and dropped his lance in acknowledgement of the loss. “Don’t you speak of Glenn,” Felix snarled, his amber eyes flashing dangerously. “Glenn wouldn’t have wanted anyone to avenge him. Fool of a knight though he was, he only cared about protecting the living. It would be an insult to his memory to fight to avenge him.”

Dimitri shoved Felix away and retrieved his fallen weapon. He didn’t look at Felix as he walked away, his long hair obscuring his eyes. “You’d best find someone to protect then,” Dimitri said in a low voice. Felix knew the words were meant to hurt; Dimitri was not one for kindness anymore. “Save me the trouble of worrying about Glenn’s ghost.”

Felix stared at the boar’s retreating back and grimaced. _That’s just the problem,_ he thought grimly. _I_ have _found someone, but I’m not doing it for Glenn._

\---

The Holy Tomb was a disaster. 

Between an ambush by the same mysterious soldiers from the Holy Mausoleum and Remire Village, and the revelation that the Flame Emperor who led them was actually Princess Edelgard, Felix wasn’t sure how much of the year’s events could be chalked up to pure chance any longer. The fact that his suspicions that this mission would prove more dangerous than a simple escort into a secret, underground chamber and back out again did nothing to placate his temper. Still on edge from his duel with Dimitri the day before, Felix realized he was paying less attention than usual to his surroundings, taking more hits than he ought to and outpacing his partner during the battle. 

“Felix, you need to slow down!” Annette shouted at him, her hair bouncing like a little candle flame in the distance. She sounded angry, and Felix felt a flicker of guilt for forcing her to try and keep up with him. He was putting her in more danger this way, and a part of him knew Glenn would have been equally as angry as Annette about his actions. “You keep saying you’re never reckless, but you’re sure not showing it now!”

“There’s no time to slow down,” he called back impatiently, glancing over his shoulder as he defended against two attackers. “If we don’t catch up with the boar, he’s going to get himself killed!”

Annette shouted something in reply, but Felix couldn’t hear her over the roar of the battle. Over the shoulders of his two attackers, he could see Dimitri cutting his way through a fray soldiers on a straight path toward Edelgard, the orchestrator of so much of his pain. Felix held no particularly strong feelings about the cause of the Tragedy of Duscur, but he knew that in his current state, Dimitri stood no chance of winning a fight against her; he hadn’t even been able to hold his own against Felix in the training grounds. He wouldn’t die for the boar prince, that much was true, but Felix knew that he couldn’t let Dimitri run into certain death either. They had been friends, once. 

He wondered if Annette would have understood that motivation, and if she would have complained about his recklessness in this battle if she did. _She would understand,_ Felix thought, watching one of his attackers fall to the ground bleeding from a thousand tiny cuts now that Annette was in range. _If anyone would understand, it would be her._

“You can’t help him if you die!” she panted, her blue eyes flashing with indignation as she skidded to a stop beside him as the other attacker fell to Felix’s blade. “Kill or be killed, right? I thought you were stronger than this.”

Felix stared at her in surprise, forgetting for a moment that they were on a battlefield and that this was not a safe place to be standing still. “You’re right,” he said shortly, coming back to his senses and pushing away the cloying feeling of pride that she had remembered his words from so long ago. He _was_ better than this; he could control the fight like a man, rather than let it control him like a beast the way Dimitri did. “Let’s go, before that idiot gets himself killed.”

Annette smiled then, fierce and bright, like the light of a candle in the darkness. It made Felix’s heart swoop uncomfortably in his chest. “I’m with you,” she said. “Lead on!”

\---

Dimitri barely survived during that battle, but he seemed to have lost what little remains of sanity he still had. Edelgard had escaped (not a hard feat, Felix thought, when her opponent hadn’t had the mental capacity to cut her down properly) and her betrayal left the entire Monastery in an uproar. The remaining Black Eagle students were in a state of shock, unable to comprehend what had happened or how Edelgard had pulled off an ambush in the middle of Garreg Mach and still escaped without a trace as to her whereabouts. Lady Rhea was furiously mobilizing the Knights of Seiros to make a stand against Edelgard’s army which was marching directly for a battle at Garreg Mach itself, and loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen that the princess was a traitor deserving the Goddess’ most severe punishment. Felix couldn’t say he cared about doling out punishment, but he wouldn’t deny that the possibility of facing Edelgard on the battlefield excited him. She would be an infinitely stronger opponent than Dimitri given that she had her sanity in check. 

“She has an army,” Annette moaned one evening, leaning back against the bench in the greenhouse. Felix tried not to focus on how the flowers drooped closely around her shoulders or the way her nose scrunched up when she sneezed from their strong scent. “How’d she even get an army? Why is she bringing it here?”

Felix—who had set aside his broom now that it was clear Annette had given up on completing her half of the chores—sighed and sat beside her. It was the first time all year that they had been scheduled to work together and for once Annette did not seem predisposed to humming any of her usual songs. The Goddess clearly was not only unmerciful, she was also cruel to deprive Felix of such a golden opportunity. 

“She’s been planning this all year, or perhaps longer than that,” Felix replied with a glance at her out of the corner of his eyes. He laced his hands together behind his head and leaned back as well. “This battle isn’t going to end well, you know.”

It was common knowledge now that Edelgard’s army was massive, and that she’d been moving contingents of soldiers close to Garreg Mach for months until she was ready to give the signal for attack. They were less than two weeks out from when her army would arrive, and no matter how Lady Rhea tried to inspire her followers, the obvious difference in the size of their armies was severely dampening morale. Many students and non-essential support staff had already been evacuated and the Monastery felt oddly empty without the usual flurry of activity. 

“I know that,” Annette said somberly, absently drumming her fingers across her knee. “We could die in that battle. In fact, we probably will since we’re so outnumbered.”

The part of Felix that he tried to ignore wanted to tell Annette that she should leave too, before Edelgard’s army reached Garreg Mach, even if it meant admitting that he didn’t want to see her in danger. He wanted to tell her how much safer she would be back home with her family, how he was sure her mother would be even more grief-stricken if she should lose her only daughter too. He wasn’t a sentimental man, but he had learned quickly that Annette loved her family more than anything, and even if he didn’t share the same sentiment for his own, Felix didn’t like the idea of letting Annette risk breaking hers apart even further. 

_If she left now, she’d be able to put hundred of leagues between herself and Edelgard,_ Felix thought. _The road home might be dangerous, but not nearly as much as this place soon will be._

The fact of the matter was that Annette was right; they probably would die if they stayed at Garreg Mach. He tried not to imagine Annette’s limp body on the ground, bright hair splayed around her head and her blood dripping from the weapons of Edelgard’s soldiers. Felix hadn’t wanted to become a knight since he was child, but that small part of him that he tried so hard to ignore (which had become steadily more vocal all year) was beginning to wonder what Glenn would have done in his shoes. Would he have insisted Ingrid leave the battlefield for her own safety because he was afraid that she might die? 

_She wouldn’t have done it even if he did,_ Felix decided, sparing another glance at Annette. She caught him staring and quirked an eyebrow at him, her blue eyes wide and curious. 

The rational side of Felix knew that asking her to escape was an insult to Annette herself; she was a perfectly capable mage, with more skill and bravery than she rightly ought to be able to contain in her small frame. 

“It will be difficult,” he said instead. “Don’t get ahead of yourself out there. Follow the Professor’s orders, and you’ll have the best chance of survival.”

“I hope she has a plan,” Annette murmured, staring at her shoes and clutching the hem of her black skirt tightly. “I don’t want to see any of us die. We have so much of our lives left to live.”

“You’ve been thinking about the future already?” Felix said, unable to mask a tone of surprise. 

“Well no, not exactly,” she mumbled, continuing to stare resolutely at the ground. She swung her legs absently. “It’s just…we’re young right? It would be a shame to die here.”

“Death comes for everyone,” Felix countered, though not unkindly. It was a hard truth that Glenn had taught him. He had once believed that his older brother was invincible; Felix still liked to pretend that nothing could hurt him, either. It made living easier. 

“You don’t want to die, do you Felix?” Annette asked in alarm, turning suddenly to face him. The flowers around her quivered from her flurry of movement, petals gently raining down into her lap. 

“Of course not!” he said, leaning back and feeling his face growing warm at her sudden closeness. He stood up and began to pace awkwardly across the room, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to avoid her eyes. “I just mean everyone dies eventually. It’s just more likely in battle, especially one like this. We need to face the reality of this mess.”

Annette sat stiffly on the bench, leaning forward slightly so the petals on her skirt fell slowly to the ground around her feet. “You can’t die,” she said fiercely. 

“I don’t plan to,” Felix assured her, glancing over his shoulder. “I won’t be able to hear an encore performance if I do.”

He really did have a bad habit of speaking before he thought the words through. Felix turned away again, ears burning uncomfortably and silently cursed himself for a fool. Luckily, she didn’t have a watering can handy this time. 

“That’s right!” she said, her voice quavering very slightly. Surprised by her lack of venom, Felix dared another glance over his shoulder. Annette’s face was slightly pink, and she avoided his gaze. “Not that I’d _give_ you one, not an evil villain like _you_ but…”

Felix felt a flicker of hope in his chest when she didn’t simply shout at him to forget everything he’d ever heard (an impossible feat, he had come to realize months ago) and briefly wondered if she might one day agree to sing for him willingly. This seemed like a promising step in that direction. “Right, I know,” he said with his back still turned so that she couldn’t see his own reddening face. “You can’t die either then, you know.”

“I won’t,” Annette declared, jumping to her feet and twirling around in the middle of the greenhouse, stopping in front of Felix and staring at him intently. “Promise me that you’ll be careful too. I don’t want to see any of us die here.”

Felix felt himself smile slightly, his eyes dancing in the dim light of the greenhouse as he met her warm blue gaze. “I promise.”

To his great astonishment, Annette smiled brightly back at him and twirled away again, humming the same tune she had so many times before. Felix could not deny even to himself how much he loved the sound of her voice, how the music she sang made his own heart ache for more. There was such a girlish joy to her movements, seemingly unashamed to dance now even in his presence. He pretended not to watch the way her feet moved nimbly across the floor or the way her hair swayed like a candle flame, worried that perhaps if he was too obvious in his appreciation of her talents that Annette might stop. He was surprised to find that the thought of her ceasing her music made his chest heavy with sadness.

_I must protect her,_ Felix thought fervently, soaking in the wordless music that Annette was offering to him now. He couldn’t explain exactly when Annette had become so important to him, but he had finally decided that it didn’t matter. _I can’t let her die!_

\---

The Battle of Garreg Mach was a chaotic mess.

Felix had expected this, but that didn’t make the fight easier to navigate. The Knights of Seiros scattered easily as Edelgard’s forces advanced, fearful of battling against a much larger force. Edelgard could afford to lose soldiers; the defenders could not. Although Professor Byleth directed their army with a calm patience, assessing the situation faster and more efficiently than many seasoned commanders well past her age, even she could not stop the fight from its inevitable downward spiral. Despite forcing many of the Empire’s commanders to retreat, they had superior numbers and the advantage of being well organized for an attack for which Garreg Mach had had much less time to prepare. 

Dimitri was another problem that made their job more difficult. 

He had eyes only for Edelgard and pushed forward heedless of the danger surrounding him at every step. Swinging his lance with careless ferocity, Dimitri cut down hundreds of soldiers as Dedue and Sylvain tried valiantly to cover his flanks. The boar had been unleashed, just as Felix had feared he would be; no one would be safe from his path of destruction now. Only Professor Byleth seemed to be able to exercise any amount of control over the boar’s actions, and even that was strained. Dimitri didn’t _want_ to listen; it was merely instinct that forced him to still follow the orders of his commanding officer.

Nevertheless, the Monastery was quickly being overrun by Edelgard’s army and Lady Rhea had no choice but to order a full retreat to have any hope of any survivors escaping the Empire’s onslaught. The Professor gave the signal for the Blue Lions to retreat and it took the combined strength of Dedue, Sylvain, and Felix to forcibly pull Dimitri off the front lines and force him into the evacuation path. He was heavily injured, but there was no time to stop for healing now. It would be suicide to remain in the Monastery at this point, and Dimitri would be killed as soon as Edelgard caught up with them. 

Ingrid and Ashe covered their retreat as best they could to buy time for the others to reach the rendezvous point. Annette had hung back as well despite how pale she looked from casting spells to assist them. Felix caught her eyes as they passed with a still-struggling Dimitri, howling that he wanted Edelgard’s head, and nodded once at her. Annette’s blue eyes were blazing with a determination that she put into every assignment she’d ever been given, and she acknowledged his concern with a single nod back. They had no energy for words. Felix doubted she would have been able to hear anything he said anyway over the din of this battle. 

It was hours later that they reached the rendezvous point and took account of who had all managed to escape the battlefield. The sun had fully set, leaving their small campground in darkness. They had lit only a tiny fire for a bit of light and to allow their mages to provide what little healing they had the energy to do. Mercedes was attending to Dimitri’s wounds—which were easily the most serious out any of the students—while Annette moved slowly between the rest of their comrades to assess the severity of their injuries and heal what she could. It was a miracle they had all made it out alive. 

All of them except Professor Byleth. Still, only one loss from their class was a miracle in and of itself.

Felix obligingly shrugged off his torn jacket and shirt at Annette’s sharp glare to allow her access to properly heal the wounds he’d taken during the battle. He didn’t have the energy to argue with her, nor to feel embarrassed that she was seeing him like this. He was covered in dried blood and dirt, stinking of sweat and feeling like he needed a week’s worth of sleep to recover his strength. Still, Annette’s hands were warm against his skin and she healed his most serious injuries easily, restoring some of his energy with the white magic. 

“Stop,” he told her, gently pulling her hands away from his chest. “I’m fine. You’ve done enough.”

He knew Annette was truly exhausted when she didn’t argue and let her hands fall limply into her lap. She swayed unsteadily on her knees in front of him, her eyes fluttering closed and exhaling softly as she slumped sideways into Felix’s open arms. Laying her down gently onto the grass, he offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess that she had survived and hoped that Annette would be in fit condition by dawn to begin the long trek back to Faerghus. She would have to be ready; they did not have the luxury of dallying so close to the Monastery while Edelgard’s army secured their hold on the area. 

Felix sat quietly beside Annette as she slept and stared vaguely into the dying embers of their campfire, wondering what would happen in Faerghus now that the Empire had revealed their true intentions. The Kingdom had always been staunchly supportive of the Church of Seiros and had resisted Empire occupation ever since Loog had won their independence with blood. He would be expected to return to Castle Fraldarius immediately to defend the country against the Empire, a task with which Felix had no qualms. It was the kind of battle for which he had been training his whole life, to use his strength to defend his homeland and those within who could not defend themselves. He wasn’t a knight, he would never be a knight, but Felix would stand up to defend the country even when the prince would not. 

_Besides,_ he thought, glancing down at Annette’s sleeping body and resisting the urge to brush a stray hair from her face. _It’s Annette’s home too. Protecting Faerghus protects her._

\---

It was weeks of travel as the small band of Blue Lions travelled north into Kingdom territory. Ashe was the first to depart their small group, heading west as they crossed the border toward Castle Gaspard, the home of his late adoptive father. He shook Felix’s hand with genuine enthusiasm, expressing his hope they would still meet again in five year’s time before turning to hug each of the women tightly. He walked away with his back straight, his bow held loosely in one hand, ready to face the future. 

The rest of the group continued their journey heading northeast toward Galatea where Ingrid was next to leave, promising she would keep in contact until they would meet again. Despite their poverty, her family generously refilled their dwindling supplies before sending them on their way. Felix clasped her hand tightly before they left, assuring Ingrid that this wouldn’t be the last of him she’d see; they lived near enough that they would fight side-by-side again soon, he was certain of it. 

Leaving Ingrid behind meant that tensions began to run high as they passed Conand Tower and entered the outskirts of Fraldarius territory. Sylvain became oddly withdrawn and avoided speaking with his friends, despite both Mercedes and Annette trying to draw him into conversation on more than one occasion. Felix kept a distance from his best friend, understanding that he needed some time alone to deal with his own demons. He might never be truly whole, not after killing his own brother, but Sylvain was stronger than he looked, and he needed to deal with his turmoil in his own way. Felix could understand that; he was still doing the same with Glenn’s ghost years after his death. 

For his part, Dimitri had hardly spoken at all since they left Garreg Mach and kept entirely to himself. His blue eyes were like ice, dead and cold. Felix hated looking at him and seeing the shell of a man who had once been a friend as close to him as Sylvain. Between the two of them, and Felix’s own complex feelings about his imminent return home, he felt a pervasive sense of unease. He wouldn’t be able to travel to Fhirdiad with Annette to ensure her safety; his father would need him to remain here so that they could prepare their resistance against the Empire’s control. House Blaiddyd would not be a strong rallying point for this war, not with Dimitri so far gone from himself. It would be up to the other noble houses, primarily Fraldarius and Gautier, to lead any resistance against the Empire. 

As the ramparts of his home came into sight, Felix drew in a long breath to steady his resolve. They would rest here for the night before Sylvain led the group north into Fhirdiad before heading home himself. He could hear Annette and Mercedes gasp at the sight of the huge castle with the banners of House Fraldarius snapping proudly in the wind high above them. It was an impressive sight, but Felix felt little except a steely resignation that he had finally returned home after a long, surprisingly pleasant year away. Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to happen upon Annette singing in the halls of Castle Fraldarius now that they had left Garreg Mach, Felix felt a sharp stab of disappointment in his chest. 

Lord Rodrigue graciously opened their guest rooms for Felix’s friends—rooms that were hastily dusted since they hadn’t been used in years—and ordered a good, if simple, meal prepared for that evening before the others had to continue their journey. It was a quiet meal wherein Dimitri spoke as little as possible and Sylvain didn’t have the heart to chatter the way he normally did. Felix moodily stabbed his fork into his beef, listening closely to how Annette’s musical voice echoed in the too-quiet dining hall as she and Mercedes valiantly made conversation with his father. He wondered if this place would feel more comfortable if Annette’s voice were always here to fill it.

_Dangerous thoughts,_ Felix warned himself, glancing at his father. Lord Rodrigue was leaning forward and watching Annette intently as she recounted the Battle of Garreg Mach and praising Felix for fending off many attackers so that she could safely cast her spells. His father seemed especially interested in that, glancing between Annette and his son several times with a searching gaze. Felix tried to ignore it and pointedly refused to look at Annette throughout the meal. He didn’t want his father reading into anything, and he was afraid that it was already too late.

Dawn came too quickly, after a long night of Felix laying awake in his room, uncomfortably aware that Annette was sleeping in a guest room in his ancestral home. It shouldn’t matter to him, he shouldn’t _care_ that she was here, she was just a classmate—except that she wasn’t anymore. All these years of insisting he didn’t need anyone in his life, that feelings just made fighting more difficult and more dangerous—all of it had come to nothing because he’d heard her singing a silly song in a greenhouse almost a year ago. Felix had been wrestling with this knowledge for too long, and he was struggling more and more to deny how important Annette had become to him in such a short time. 

In the winter chill of the morning, the remaining Blue Lions made ready to depart Castle Fraldarius and make their way to Fhirdiad under Sylvain’s leadership. It wasn’t a far journey from Fraldarius territory, and Lord Rodrigue kept firm control on the banditry within his territory, so it wasn’t likely to be overly dangerous either. Still, Felix desperately wished he could accompany them further to ensure Annette would arrive safely, even though he knew it was impossible and that his father would never consent to it. 

“Felix, can we talk?” Annette’s quiet voice broke his reverie. She had her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders and wore a scarf of Galatean colours that Ingrid had given her before they left her home. Her bright reddish hair peeked out from the depths of her dark hood like little tongues of flame. 

They stood a little apart from the others as Lord Rodrigue attempted to engage Dimitri in hushed conversation prior to their departure. Felix glanced at his father’s back and nodded quickly. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?” he said in an echo of his usual prickly self. 

Annette actually smiled at that, her blue eyes dancing with silent laughter. “I suppose we are,” she agreed. “I just wanted to thank you for everything. You’ve been so kind to me all year, and I’m going to miss our magic lessons.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said seriously, crossing his arms over his chest. His breath frosted in front of him, and he hoped that Annette would mistake the redness on his cheeks to be from the cold. “We’re friends.”

“I’m glad for that,” she said, rubbing her hands together to keep them warm. “I hope you’ll be safe. Who knows what will happen now?”

“I will be,” Felix assured her just as he always did. “You too. Don’t be reckless.”

Annette shook her head and smiled nervously. “I won’t be. Felix, I wanted to ask you…would you mind if I write to you? I’m writing to Ingrid and Ashe too,” she added hastily, before he had a chance to reply. “And Mercie of course. Maybe Sylvain…I just…”

Felix felt his heart begin to pound in his chest and hoped that she couldn’t hear it. “I’d be honoured if you would write to me,” he interrupted her, speaking more formally than he intended. He seemed to stumble over the words and couldn’t help but think that Glenn would have been able to respond more smoothly. “I’m not great at writing letters but I’ll try for you.” 

The words slipped out before he could stop himself. He hoped that she still thought his face was red from the cold, but he suspected it might be too red now for that to be realistic.

“Thank you,” Annette said simply, smiling shyly up at him. 

The stood in silence for a long moment, listening to the distant voices of Lord Rodrigue and Dimitri echo across the yard. _It might be the last time we see each other for a very long time,_ Felix thought as he tried to memorize Annette’s face. _She wants to write to me. No one has ever written to me before._

“This is goodbye then,” he said awkwardly, trying to break the silence. “Be safe, all right?”

Annette moved before Felix could react, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Too stunned to believe what had happened, he slowly wrapped his own arms around her too. She had hugged everyone so far, and she hugged Mercedes several times a day, so why did it feel so different for her to hug him? She felt good in his arms and Felix didn’t want to let her go. He could keep her safe if she stayed with him here. 

“Sorry,” Annette said softly, pulling away far too quickly and stepping back. Her face was red too, and Felix kindly attributed it to the cold. “I didn’t mean to get sentimental.”

“It’s fine,” Felix replied in a quiet voice. “I don’t mind.”

She smiled and turned to head back to the others. “I’ll see you around, Felix,” Annette said over her shoulder. “Look forward to my letters, okay?”

He stared after her as she rejoined their friends, his arms feelings strangely empty.

“I will, Annette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the timeskip! This chapter was so much fun to write--lots of action mixed with some fluff and some angst. 
> 
> I really didn't want to have them lose contact for five years after the friendship they worked so hard to build--not to mention, it makes the timeskip way more interesting :) I love the post-timeskip story, so this a great chance to help keep them at the forefront of each other's minds before they see each other again and rekindle their budding romance. I'll post the next chapter on the weekend and we'll see how the timeskip treats the two of them! Then we are into the post-timeskip story. 
> 
> We've come so far together, I can't believe we're already almost halfway through the story! I'm projecting a total of 39 chapters at this point, and I have about 10 left to write if all goes according to plan. Thank you all so much for reading and for your lovely comments! You all make me smile <3 
> 
> Love, Kami


	19. Interlude

_12 Great Tree Moon 1181_

_Dear Felix,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for your family’s hospitality during our journey to Fhirdiad last month. I hope we were not a burden on your father—please pass my gratitude to him._

_I am writing to you from my uncle’s townhouse in Fhirdiad, but I am planning to return to the barony with him within the week. If you do reply—and by no means do you_ have _to, so please don’t feel obligated—I just wanted to let you know where I’ll be. Don’t worry about my safety because we’ll be travelling with my uncle’s battalion of Dominic soldiers and they’re very good! Everything will be fine. My mother is there, so I want to be with her so that she isn’t so lonely. I want to tell her all about my time at Garreg Mach._

_Fhirdiad has become restless lately, and I fear that fighting may soon break out. I pray that I’m wrong, but everyone is on edge, and there are palace soldiers everywhere in the city as if they’re expecting riots. I worry for Mercie because she’s planning on staying at a church here for a while, and she could be caught in the middle of this mess. I haven’t seen Dimitri or Dedue since we arrived in the city, but there have been so many horrible whispers about Dimitri lately…I’m really worried that the war is going to escalate quickly in Fhirdiad._

_Sorry, I think I’m rambling now. I am sure you must be busy with your own duties, so don’t be reckless if you have to fight!_

_Sincerely,_

_Annette F. Dominic_

\---

Annette re-read her letter several times before deciding that it would have to do. She’d already crumpled up five other drafts and tossed them into the fire, unsatisfied with how they’d turned out. She hadn’t thought it would be so difficult to write to Felix but sending him a letter and speaking to him directly now seemed to be two very different things. Reaching for the wax, Annette carefully folded her letter and closed the envelop with the seal of House Dominic firmly in the centre. She’d never written to anyone except Mercedes before, and she wasn’t sure if he would reply, but Annette hadn’t wanted to simply lose contact, not after everything they’d gone through together. Besides, as she had told him, it wasn’t like she was _only_ writing to Felix.

 _I hope it’s not too soon to write to him,_ Annette thought fretfully as she moved to stand in front of her window on the second floor of her uncle’s townhouse. _But he said I could, so I suppose there’s no harm in it._

Still, Annette could feel butterflies swirling in her stomach that afternoon as she handed the letter to the postmaster in Fhirdiad’s business district and gave the destination in a trembling voice. Handing it over for delivery seemed so final; there was no chance of going back now. _He probably won’t even reply,_ Annette reminded herself firmly as she made her way slowly back to her uncle’s townhouse, oblivious to the curious stare of the postmaster behind her. _I hope he does, though._

\---

Felix sat alone in his bedroom in Castle Fraldarius, quill suspended in the air above a stubbornly blank piece of parchment upon which he’d only managed to write the date and _Dear Annette._ The sky outside had long since darkened, the bright moon hidden by a thick cloud cover that threatened rain and reflected Felix’s stormy mood nicely. He wondered if it would rain in Barony Dominic too, or if Annette was too far away for the same weather to pelt her window. He had received her first letter after only two weeks since she had arrived in Fhirdiad and Felix hadn’t been able to craft a response in over a month. It wasn’t for lack of trying; he’d tossed numerous attempts already because he’d ended up blotching them with ink before he’d even managed to write anything. 

He just didn’t know what to say. Annette wrote letters the same way that she spoke—full of colourful stories of her daily life, questions about the future, warnings that he should be careful in battle. It was almost as if she was standing beside him and chattering away like she always did. When he closed his eyes, Felix could hear her voice in his head whispering the contents of her missive or singing her songs. But he had never been one for writing letters and had never bothered to respond to any of the ones Ingrid used to send to let him know she was coming to visit, back before they had gone to Garreg Mach. What was he supposed to write back to Annette?

Felix had carefully stowed her letter in a locked box of carved cherry wood that his mother had left for him before she had passed away. He had never had any use for it before, but he didn’t want anyone else to stumble upon Annette’s letters and he didn’t want to burn them after reading them, so the only option was to keep them safely sealed away. He kept the small silver key hidden in the back of his dresser, rolled up in a single black sock that had lost its mate years before. He wondered if his mother would have known how to respond, if he’d even have had the courage to ask her. He was sure Glenn would have known exactly what to say, though Felix would never have heard the end of it from his older brother.

Turning back to the parchment on the desk in front of him, Felix heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his dark unbound hair. He didn’t know when she would write again, or if she would even bother to send another letter if he didn’t respond to her first one, a risk he did not want to take. _What should I write?_ he wondered for the hundredth time that night. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the red box as if he could see the words of her letter through the wood. _What would Annette even care to hear about?_

By the time Felix set down his quill and gave his completed letter a final once-over, the sky had lightened considerably, and the rain had begun to pour down in full force. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he slid the letter into an envelope and sealed it with the blue wax crest of House Fraldarius. Feeling considerably more drained than he rightfully ought to from simply writing a letter, Felix stood unsteadily from his chair and stumbled face-first onto his bed still fully clothed and fell into a much-needed sleep.

\---

_2 Garland Moon 1181_

_Dear Annette,_

_I’m glad to hear you arrived safely in Fhirdiad; I trust you have arrived safely in Barony Dominic by now. I have not had to engage in any fighting yet, but things are not looking good right now. Cornelia is sympathetic to the Empire, and she has control of the capital; I doubt Dimitri will be able to contest her in his current state. Tensions are escalating, so battle is inevitable._

_Ingrid has informed me that your birthday passed on 9 Harpstring Moon. Allow me to offer my belated congratulations. May you have many happy returns._

_Sincerely,_

_Felix H. Fraldarius_

\---

Annette clutched the letter gently with both hands, blue eyes wide with surprise that Felix had not only replied to her letter— _finally_ —but that he’d also made a point to wish her a happy birthday. It was only a short letter, so very much like him, but she’d read it four times already since it had arrived, and Annette’s smile still hadn’t faded. She loved spending time with her mother, and being in her own room again, but she missed the friends she had made at Garreg Mach more than she’d expected. Seeing Felix’s familiar slanted writing addressed to her was a comfort that she hadn’t known she’d needed. 

He’d even sent her a small birthday gift with his letter. The book was thin, with a well-worn soft cover of black leather that was embossed with an intricate design of faded gold leaf. The pages were still in pristine condition, only a little yellowed with age along the edges. Felix had not mentioned anything about it, and she had no idea how he’d managed to get a hold of such an old edition of Rafiel’s _Aria’s,_ but he had remembered the poet who’d composed her favourite song. She’d told him about that at the winter ball which already felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. The _Dawnsong_ was her favourite piece, and it sounded beautiful when sung, and the poet Rafiel had composed many beautiful pieces, nearly all of which were contained in this volume. Annette had almost wept for joy, never having thought she might have a chance to hold something so valuable. 

She stowed the letter carefully into a box of dark walnut with her other precious keepsakes—letters from Mercedes, a few pieces of jewellery that she had treasured, and some other little knickknacks that held sentimental value to her. The little book remained on her bedside table and Annette knew she would not sleep until late into the night.

\---

_24 Guardian Moon 1182_

_Dear Felix,_

_I heard about Fhirdiad’s fall today, and Dimitri’s execution, though I’m fuzzy on the details. I hope you’re doing all right, I know that things must be very difficult for you right now. If there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to let me know._

_Word has reached us that there has been a lot of fighting near Fhirdiad, a resistance led mainly by your father and Margrave Gautier. I do hope you have not been injured, or Sylvain either. Don’t be reckless, I know you have a habit of taking on more than you can handle sometimes just for the thrill of it._

_I’m sorry to say that my uncle has been supporting Cornelia’s regime. We don’t have the power to maintain a resistance against her. He has deemed it the safest course of action to ally our territory with the Empire, just as many other small lords nearby have done. I hate it, but I feel so powerless to do anything to change the situation. We don’t have enough soldiers, and most of them are old or untrained. I can’t take on an entire army alone, so I feel as though I have no choice but to submit to my uncle’s will in this._

_I wish I could join you, Sylvain, and Ingrid in fighting against the Empire’s rule in Faerghus, but I can’t leave—my uncle has me under close watch. I can’t even send this letter by way of normal post for fear it might be confiscated. He fears I will put his plans in danger, knowing my association with Garreg Mach and that I still write to many of my friends. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be reckless. I have to stay safe so I can reunite with everyone at the Millennium Festival._

_I hope that you may send good tidings if you write again, though I fear that hope may be too optimistic._

_Sincerely,_

_Annette Dominic_

\---

Felix had been more than a little disturbed when he finished reading Annette’s latest letter. He couldn’t truly blame Baron Dominic for siding with Cornelia; he was well aware that many of the smaller baronies had little in the way of power and certainly didn’t keep a trained fighting force on standby like Fraldarius or Gautier did. They needed a leader to pull them together, to make them strong through unity of purpose but they were so far away that it was impossible for Lord Rodrigue or Margrave Gautier to do so. As it happened, Cornelia’s Empire forces were doing a good job of keeping their resistance penned in on the east side of the country and stopping them from expanding their resistance toward western Faerghus.

 _Allying with Cornelia will probably keep Annette safer than open resistance,_ Felix thought peevishly as he hurried through the cold halls of Castle Fraldarius, snow melting off the ends of his dark hair and spattering his doublet with droplets of water. He’d tucked her missive into an inner pocket of his shirt to keep the ink from smearing until he could stow it away in the box with Annette’s three previous letters. The maid who’d handed it to him had looked at him curiously despite his intimidating stature, and he’d hurried away with his ears burning. 

“Felix, a moment, if you please,” came the unmistakable drawl of his father, drawing his son of his thoughts.

Felix halted in his tracks and grunted moodily as he turned to enter the study on his immediate left. The room was sumptuous with dark wood panelling and a massive desk planted squarely in the centre of the room. The tall windows behind it let in the light of a gloomy day, the snow spiraling downward in mesmerizing swirls. His father sat at the desk with a dangerously high stack of parchments to one side, his dark hair swaying gently as he drew the quill across the parchment in front of him. His father’s face was thin and drawn, dark circles marring his handsome features. He’d taken the news of Dimitri’s apparent death after the execution hard. _Harder than when Glenn died,_ Felix thought spitefully, turning to gaze instead at the portrait on the right wall.

It had been painted years ago, when Felix had been no more than four or five years old. His father sat in the same chair that now stood behind his desk, looking young and happy as his oldest son stood beside his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on Glenn’s boyish face. Felix’s mother stood beside her husband’s chair and held Felix’s small hand in her own. She was as different from her family as the sun was from the moon, with a head of long, lustrously blonde hair and amber eyes. She smiled brightly in the painting, and Felix wondered if she would have been able to keep smiling like that had she lived. He couldn’t remember her very well.

“Your mother would weep to see what has happened to Faerghus,” Lord Rodrigue said, setting aside his quill and looking up at the painting. He sighed heavily and shook his head. “She would hate to see you fighting and risking your life.”

Felix had no desire to speak of the dead. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t remember her. “What do you want?” he asked shortly. “Are Cornelia’s forces advancing on our position again?”

His father shook his head. “No, thank the Goddess. The weather is preventing her from doing much, and the scum from the Empire are not used to winters in Faerghus. I do not think she will make any move until spring.” 

“Then what do you want?” Felix retorted impatiently. “I have business elsewhere.”

Lord Rodrigue raised his eyebrows. “I think your business can wait. We need to discuss your future.”

“Not this again,” Felix growled, fully aware of what was coming. He turned to leave the room. “I’ve given you my answer. Nothing has changed.”

“Stay where you are,” Lord Rodrigue commanded loudly, his tone steely. Felix reluctantly stopped moving and stood stubbornly with his back to his father. “The future of House Fraldarius rests on you—perhaps even the future of Faerghus, now that Dimitri is gone.”

“You’re a fool,” Felix snapped angrily over his shoulder, his hands balling into fists. “I’m not leading this country. I don’t even want to lead this house.”

His father laced his fingers together and peered closely at Felix. “The girl with whom you’re exchanging letters,” Lord Rodrigue began, and Felix felt his heart go cold in his chest. “The Dominic girl. She’s a lovely thing, but she’s not a suitable match for you, Felix. Their family has nothing to offer, and Faerghus needs as much power as we can get right now.”

Felix whipped around, his wet hair slapping against his forehead. “What are you talking about?” he spat, stalling for time. He didn’t want to have this conversation and wondered how his father knew about his communication with Annette. _The maids must be reporting what’s coming and going in the post,_ he thought savagely, his mind racing to think of how to avoid further snooping in his mail.

“She isn’t suitable, Felix,” Lord Rodrigue repeated, holding his son’s gaze easily. “Perhaps if circumstances were different, but alas…”

Felix drew in a deep breath in a hopeless attempt to control his temper. 

“We need to use this time to find you a suitable bride,” Lord Rodrigue continued calmly. The dark bags under his eyes made his face look positively skeletal. “Before Cornelia can make a move against us again. We need to give Faerghus a leader to rally around, since Dimitri is…gone. I’m sure Count Galatea would be willing to make arrangements with us again, and I know you get along well with Ingrid.”

“Leave Ingrid out of this,” Felix growled in a dangerously silky voice. Lord Rodrigue had managed to mention the two women Felix least wanted to hear about from his father’s mouth in one conversation, and it had done nothing to curb his anger. “How dare you think to drag her into another Fraldarius betrothal? Have you no shame after what happened to Glenn?”

“That was an unfortunate accident,” he growled back, his eyes glittering like steel. “If not Ingrid, I have been exploring other options. Margrave Edmund of the Leicester Alliance seems open to pursuing the possibility, or perhaps even Lord Goneril. Both would bring an alliance with Leicester, which would help us immensely in our resistance against the Empire.”

“You really are a fool,” Felix hissed through clenched teeth, his whole body shaking with rage. Annette’s letter seemed to burn against his chest from the inside pocket where he’d hidden it. “We’re at war and all you care about is marrying me off for your own gain? Save your breath, old man. You be the leader Faerghus needs if that’s what you want, but don’t expect that of me.”

His father stood up and slammed his palms onto the desk, the sound echoing through the small room. “This is beyond you, boy,” Lord Rodrigue shouted, finally losing his temper. “You will do what is expected of you.”

“I fight for myself,” Felix shouted back, meeting his father’s eyes fearlessly. “We’re at war. Best you keep that in mind and forget this nonsense before we’re all killed.”

Without waiting for his father to respond, Felix fled the room.

\---

_24 Blue Sea Moon 1182_

_Dear Felix,_

_I am glad to hear that you are doing well despite the escalations with Cornelia’s regime. I pray to the Goddess every day that all of you will be safe._

_My uncle has been rubbing elbows with Empire supporters for months now, and he has become quite vocal in his support of them. He entertains dignitaries from Fhirdiad regularly and pays a hefty tithe to support her regime. He says this is all for the safety of the Dominic territory, but it hurts all the same._

_Even my mother has been more active around the manor recently, and I’ve overheard her arguing with my uncle about his plans, but she doesn’t have the power to change his mind. Ever since my father gave up the barony and my mother secluded herself away for so long, my uncle was able to build a strong reputation and win the loyalty of the house. She doesn’t have the clout to sway his decisions. But honestly, I’m just happy that she’s finally beginning to act more like her old self._

_My uncle has been trying to use me for his plans to secure House Dominic as a foremost supporter of Cornelia’s regime, so it’s begun to drive a wedge between us. He used to be so supportive of my pursuits, but lately I don’t feel like I can trust him to have my best interests at heart. I hate feeling like a game piece and having no way to fight back._

_I miss Garreg Mach. I wish we could all go back to the way things were back then._

_Sincerely,_

_Annette Dominic_

\---

Annette blew gently over the wet ink and read through the words once more. She wished more than ever that she could be with her friends, resisting the Empire with all her strength, putting her magic to good use. She worried her skills would waste away at this rate with nothing to use them on except training dummies. No one had used the pathetically small training grounds of House Dominic in years—even her uncle, who was an accomplished solider in his own right, had preferred to ride out into the countryside to practice his war manoeuvres than use the training grounds. 

She stared out the open window of her bedroom at the garden below and saw her mother walking slowly amongst the plants with a watering can in hand. Lady Dominic’s dark hair was swept up on the crown of her head in a mass of intricate braids and she wore a simple dress of brown silk. Her mother’s voice carried upward with the warm breeze as she sang while she worked, a sound that made Annette’s heart flutter with delight. Closing her eyes, Annette leaned against the sill and allowed herself to be momentarily lost in the comforting sound of her mother’s voice.

_I remember the days when our love was young,  
Before the rose had blossomed or the nightingale had sung,  
I will always treasure the memory of your love,  
Perhaps you will return to me with the next blooming of foxglove._

Annette’s mother had begun to come back to her old self since her return from Garreg Mach, and she’d been making a stronger effort to spend time with her daughter. She would never be the same as she had been before, Annette understood that, but she couldn’t help but be happy for the changes. She had even begun to play her piano again and had talked of composing music once more. Annette wondered if she would ever be as skilled with her own musical compositions, and then wondered if it mattered. Only the plants of House Dominic’s gardens would ever hear her voice now. Even Felix wasn’t here to accidentally overhear her songs, a fact which shouldn’t have made Annette’s heart hurt nearly so much as it did.

“Lady,” Baron Dominic’s voice drifted up from the garden, cool and resolute. Her mother’s song ended abruptly, and Annette slid further into her room so that she wouldn’t be seen if either of them looked up. “It is good to hear your voice raised in song again. I trust you have had time to read through my latest proposal?”

Lady Dominic was silent for a long moment and Annette wondered if she would respond at all. Her mother and her uncle had not been on good terms lately. 

“Sir,” Lady Dominic began coldly, her voice thin as ice despite the warm summer day. “I have indeed read it. Tell me, how much pride have you lost that you would seek to use your own niece like this?”

Her uncle huffed loudly. “We need to secure our future as vassals of the Empire,” he said reasonably, as if explaining a simple concept to a particularly obtuse child. “Lady Cornelia does not trust the lesser nobility in the west, and with good reason. A marriage to a minor Empire lord would secure our place as loyal to her regime.”

Annette felt her blood run cold. She’d known this was a very real possibility, and she’d even suspected that her uncle had been trying to plan this ever since Cornelia had taken Fhirdiad, but actually hearing him admit it was something else entirely. 

_I knew I’d never have a choice in my marriage,_ Annette thought, trying to keep her breathing quiet as she strained to listen. She tried not to let Felix’s face invade her thoughts. _But I’ll be damned before I marry a man from the Empire, of all places!_

“You have brought this situation on us by yourself,” Lady Dominic said firmly, her icy tone cutting through the warm day like a knife. “I had not thought the men of House Dominic to be so weak that they would abandon their wives or bow and scrape before an enemy in our fair country.”

Now it was Baron Dominic’s turn to be silent. Annette had not heard her mother so much a reference her husband in passing for years, much less utter any kind of direct statement about him. Time seemed to freeze around Annette as she waited to hear her uncle’s response. She wasn’t sure what would happen, had no idea even what she _wanted_ to happen. 

“Lady, we have no choice,” Baron Dominic finally said, his voice strained. “We have no way to resist the Empire. The resistance army from the east cannot help us, and none of the western lords can withstand the onslaught of the Empire. I am told that the resistance will be crushed soon, so we must prepare for the new age that is coming.”

“Do as you like with House Dominic,” Lady Dominic said coldly. Annette could hear her skirts rustling against the ground as she moved below the window. “Understand this, brother: you will never use my daughter to further your ambitions. I will not allow it.”

Baron Dominic growled something in a low voice to her mother that Annette could not make out, and to her surprise, Lady Dominic’s voice rose in mocking laughter. It sent a chill down Annette’s spine. 

“I have made myself clear on this matter,” Lady Dominic replied with an air of finality. “Perhaps if you had ever loved Faerghus, or even another person, you would not be so hasty to ally our House with the Empire’s regime. Certainly, my husband would not have countenanced it. Good day to you!” 

Annette sat alone under her window for a long time after that conversation, holding her letter to Felix close and wondering what might happen to her before they reunited at the Millennium Festival.

\---

_10 Garland Moon 1183_

_Dear Annette,_

_You must have heard about the battle of the Itha Plains during Great Tree Moon by now. It was very bloody, and we suffered many casualties. Sylvain and I both sustained injuries, though Ingrid managed to pull through without anything serious. Rest assured we have been recovering over the last several months, but I have been unable to write until my wounds healed. Ingrid would not hear of it._

_We seem to be at a stalemate with Cornelia’s forces now. My father is trying to secure an agreement with some of the Leicester lords to assist with supplying food and weapons to us, since the Empire doesn’t have easy access to disrupt it._

_I understand that the western lords are firmly under the Empire’s influence now. They know that the western regions don’t have the same power as the east; a fault you can blame on my family, I daresay. The Fraldarius family has commanded the armies of Faerghus for generations, and the Gautier family has defended the northernmost tip of the country from Sreng invasion for equally as long. It seems we have caused the eastern territories to be lax in military affairs, knowing that we would be called on for the defense of Faerghus if ever it was needed._

_I suggest you give up on this ridiculous promise that the Blue Lions would reunite at the Millennium Festival. It would be foolish for you to travel so far alone during this war. There’s not that many of us left to reunite anyway._

_Sincerely,_

_Felix Fraldarius_

\---

The words were harsh, but Felix hadn’t been able to think of a better way to broach the topic of the Millennium Festival. Dimitri had been dead for years, while he, Sylvain, and Ingrid were fighting a war that had ground to a frustrating stalemate. None of them had heard from Ashe in months, and no one seemed to know if Mercedes was still in Fhirdiad or not, if she was even still alive. With Annette herself effectively trapped by her uncle in their manor on the other side of the country, Felix couldn’t see how any of them would be able to go south for this reunion. Even if they _could_ slip away, the way south would be dangerous, and rumor had it that Garreg Mach had been overrun by bandits ever since Edelgard had abandoned it after her victory three years ago.

Slipping the letter into an envelope, Felix turned and handed it into Ingrid’s open palm. He’d been forced to find another way to send his letters so that they wouldn’t be found by his father, nor Annette’s responses. It still irked him that he’d had to tell Ingrid of his newfound hobby, but he didn’t have any other choice. Galatea territory was further from Fhirdiad, and she had connections to some apparently trustworthy merchants who were willing to take the letters between her home and House Dominic. Few people wanted to be associated with House Fraldarius under the current regime. 

“I never thought I’d see the day you willingly wrote letters to a woman,” Ingrid said with a shake of her head. She’d finally cut her long hair, after years of keeping it braided just the way Glenn had loved it. Felix thought she was finally trying to move on from her grief and wondered if cutting her hair had been her first step toward a new life. “You never struck me as the sentimental type.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Felix replied shortly, avoiding her gaze. She tucked the letter carefully into her green jacket. “It’s reconnaissance. Annette often sends useful information about the happenings in the west, which are hard to come by for us. They know more of Cornelia’s plans than we do, so we’ll be prepared when she makes a move.”

“Sure,” Ingrid said in a tone that plainly said she didn’t believe him for a second. “We have informants in Fhirdiad itself, but I’m sure Annette knows more of Cornelia’s plans than we do.”

“Leave it alone, Ingrid,” he said warningly, shooting her a dirty look. “Just…”

“Don’t worry, Felix,” she said. Ingrid smiled gently and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just teasing. Actually, I think this is good for you to have a friend outside of me, Sylvain, and Dimitri. We’re all so jaded and Annette…she’s a breath of fresh air.”

“Whatever you say,” Felix said blandly, not wanting to voice his agreement too obviously. Ingrid already knew more than he wanted, and he didn’t want her to read more deeply into their relationship than she already had. He tried to change the subject. “Have you spoken to Sylvain yet? I’m getting sick of listening to him moan.”

Ingrid’s good-natured cheeriness vanished in an instant. “I’m not speaking to him,” she retorted. “He’s really done it this time.”

Felix glared at Ingrid. “I’m not playing mediator between you two again,” he said flatly, brushing a long strand of navy hair out of his eyes. He’d grown his hair out and had taken to wearing it in a warrior’s tail the way Glenn had done. “You’re just holding a grudge for the sake of it. Sylvain’s not Glenn. Don’t pretend that you want him to be.”

Ingrid stared at Felix with real pain in her green eyes, but he didn’t care. He knew he was right. Ingrid hadn’t let go of Glenn’s ghost for seven years. She was right to say he wasn’t sentimental; Felix tried to keep his emotions at bay as much as possible (a feat made most difficult when it involved Annette, unfortunately) but he was sick of seeing his two friends butt heads over and over again about the same stupid arguments. 

“Of course I don’t want him to be Glenn,” Ingrid’s voice was steady but she couldn’t keep a tone of despair out of it. She turned to go and avoided Felix’s gaze so that he wouldn’t see her eyes welling with tears. “I just…he’s so _thoughtless_ sometimes, you know?”

“I know,” Felix replied, more gently than before. He tried to pretend he didn’t know she was crying. “Sylvain’s an idiot, but he cares for you Ingrid. Just…keep that in mind. I don’t think Glenn would be upset to see you happy.”

Ingrid sniffed, but when she turned to look back at Felix, her smile was genuine. “Perhaps you’re right,” she agreed. “If that’s the case, I am sure he would want you to be happy too.”

\---

_31 Wyvern Moon 1184_

_Dear Felix,  
_

__

__

_You have said in your last several letters that we should not return to Garreg Mach for the Millennium Festival. I can’t do that—we made a promise. I have to go, even if only one other person shows up. Even if you’re not going, I must._

\---

Annette sat in the music room that was her mother’s haven and stared listlessly at the parchment in front of her. She wasn’t sure how to continue her letter, whether it would make any difference to Felix’s insistence that there was no point in this reunion. She’d been looking forward to this for so long, especially after being so isolated from her friends. Besides, she’d received a handful of letters from Mercedes throughout the last couple of years, and she knew her friend was still planning on travelling south to the ruins of Garreg Mach. Annette wanted to go even if it would only be the two of them.

“Annette, darling? What are you doing up so late?” 

Lady Dominic stood in the doorway, a candle in her hand and her long, dark hair unbound around her shoulders. She looked weary, having fought again with Baron Dominic on the subject of their alliance with Empire that morning. It was at least the third time that week, from Annette’s estimation. 

“I’m just writing a letter,” she said honestly, turning in her chair to block her mother’s view of the words. 

Lady Dominic sat at the piano and tested a few keys. The notes echoed briefly before fading and leaving them in silence again. After a moment, she continued to play, coaxing out a calming melody that she’d been working on perfecting. Annette closed her eyes, letting the music overtake her senses and trying to push her worries from her mind. She wanted to go—she _intended_ to go—but the one doubt she still held was leaving her mother behind, now that she’d begun to truly live again. 

“You should get some rest,” Lady Dominic said finally, her fingers dancing across the piano keys. “There is much to prepare if you intend to arrive at Garreg Mach in time for the Millennium Festival.”

Annette looked at her mother in surprise. “How do you know about that?” 

Lady Dominic continued to play the piano and did not answer immediately. “You mentioned it to me when you first returned home,” she said quietly, her blue eyes focused on the keys. “You seemed so excited to go back and see your friends again.”

“I am,” Annette agreed earnestly. Her heart pounded in her chest with the knowledge that her mother approved of her journey. “I think it’s important that we keep our promise. We accomplished so much during our school days…what if we can do it again?”

Lady Dominic sighed, though her music never faltered. “It will be dangerous,” she said. “You may not return home alive. I do not want to lose you the way I lost my husband.”

Annette stood and felt the silk of her green dress rustle lightly against her legs as she came to stand by the piano. “I will be careful,” she promised. “Please, let me return to them. I am sure we can free Faerghus if only we reunite.”

“You would go even if I forbade it,” Lady Dominic laughed ruefully, ceasing her playing and laying her hands gently into her lap. “Tell me, will the young man you seem so enamoured with be there too?”

Annette’s blue eyes widened. “How do you know about him?” she whispered. 

Her mother raised a delicate eyebrow. “Call it a mother’s intuition,” she said dryly, holding up a hand to forestall any further questions. “Annette, never forget that servants talk—I know who it is that you’ve been writing to all these years. You were wise in your discretion, but there’s very little that comes or goes without a servant’s knowledge.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Does my uncle know?”

“I do not think so,” Lady Dominic replied. She smiled grimly and ran her fingers through her long hair. It glowed like polished mahogany in the soft candlelight. “He’s never been one to pay attention to such mundane details like the mail.”

Annette stared at her mother and giggled. Her mother looked so tired, but her blue eyes (the same ones Annette had inherited) sparkled with joy when Annette smiled. “You’re right,” she said once she had managed to calm herself enough to speak. “I should have been more cautious, knowing that he has sided with the Empire.”

“Soon enough, you will be gone from here and have no more need of letters,” Lady Dominic said gently. “Send your final missive and make your preparations to leave. It will not hurt anything now.” She paused and added, “I hope he will protect you so that you can return home safely to me.”

Annette felt her heart swell with love for her mother. She threw her arms around Lady Dominic’s thin shoulders and hugged her tightly, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her hair. “Thank you, Mother,” she whispered. “I swear, I will return to you safely. And I will bring Father with me, too.”

“Annette, if I have you, I am content,” Lady Dominic assured her, holding her tightly. She sounded like she was about to cry. “I spent so long wallowing in sorrow for a man who abandoned me that I abandoned you too. I have been a poor mother to you all these years.”

Annette held her mother tighter, wishing she never had to let go. She tried to hold back her own tears, but it wasn’t working. She could feel the salt of her tears dribbling onto her lips. “No, Mother, don’t say that,” she whispered. “I know you’ve always loved me. Don’t say such sad things!”

“I will do better from now on,” Lady Dominic murmured, pulling out of Annette’s grasp and running her fingers gently along her cheek. “I will never allow your uncle to use you for his political ambitions. I only hope that one day, you will have a happier life than I have had, with a husband who will not abandon you the way I was.” 

Annette smiled weakly at her mother. “I hope so too,” she murmured.

Lady Dominic rose from her seat on the piano bench and took up her candle again. “Finish your last letter, darling,” she said, turning to leave the room. “We must plan carefully if you are to make a successful escape from this place. We have only a few weeks left now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few different chapter scenes floating around in my head before I even started writing this fic, and this is one of them! I am really happy with how it turned out :) 
> 
> I will take this time to mention that I actually really love Lord Rodrigue! He and Felix have such a sour relationship, but I think with the right circumstances, they could have become very close. I wanted to take the time in this chapter to set the stage for the post-timeskip story-line which meant more than simply keeping Annette and Felix in touch nursing their feelings for each other! I also really wanted to flesh out their relationships with their families. I think both play a central role in their lives as individuals, so it was important that we explore that now before they are reunited. 
> 
> Next stop: Millennium Festival! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments :) I am so thrilled that you are enjoying this fic and I hope you continue to enjoy. 
> 
> Love, Kami


	20. A Promise Fulfilled

_31 Wyvern Moon 1184_

_Dear Felix,_

_You have said in your last several letters that we should not return to Garreg Mach for the Millennium Festival. I can’t do that—we made a promise. I have to go, even if only one other person shows up. Even if you’re not going, I must._

_I will travel south through Gideon territory along the river and meet up with Mercedes along the way, so I won’t be travelling alone the whole time. I had a letter from Ingrid recently too saying she was intending to travel to Garreg Mach as well, so there’s bound to be a few of us there. I hope that once we’re all together again, maybe we can work together like we used to, and make a difference in this long war. We have nothing to lose, and everything to gain._

_If you don’t change your mind, I hope you’ll be safe fighting on the frontlines in Faerghus. Don’t be reckless!_

_Yours truly,_

_Annette_

\---

The contents of Annette’s last letter were practically burned into Felix’s mind, and it had caused him no small amount of frustration. He’d been stewing over what to do about it for days, knowing that he had to make a decision quickly if he intended to travel south to arrive in time at the Millennium Festival, if it could even be called such with the Monastery in shambles. Luckily, the winter had been particularly hard in Faerghus this year, and it had forced Cornelia to pull her forces back into Fhirdiad until the winter storms ceased, leaving Felix with a golden opportunity to make his way south if he so chose. 

He didn’t think his father would approve of this mad venture, not when they were in the middle of a war that had begun nearly five years before and with no end in sight. Part of Felix wanted to travel south for this silly reunion just to spite his father; the rest of him wanted to go so that he could see Annette in the flesh again. 

_She tells me not be reckless, yet she thinks travelling across half of Faerghus alone isn’t foolish!_ Felix thought grumpily. He examined his reflection in his freshly cleaned Wo Dao blade critically. _I’ve never met a woman as intent on getting herself into trouble as Annette!_

He wondered if Glenn would have kept such an insane promise, had their places been switched. His brother had had a foul temper, and had frequently challenged stronger foes to battle him, a habit Felix had picked up from his days spent idolizing his older brother, but he was loyal to a fault. It was what had gotten him killed, in the end. 

_He’d have gone,_ Felix knew instinctively. He took a dry cloth and ran it along the edge of his blade again to ensure it was spotless. _Glenn always wanted to play the hero. He’d like this narrative of ‘making a difference.’_

The door to the armory creaked open and a maid in the livery of House Fraldarius led Sylvain into the room. His friend’s red hair had grown out into a wild tangle that he had refused to tame, claiming that “the ladies love a man with style,” though Felix did not think bedhead counted as such. Sylvain sauntered over and grinned, holding out a hand to Felix. 

“Time to get moving,” he said cheerfully. “We’ve got to leave by nightfall if we’re going to meet Ingrid at Galatea Manor in time to arrive at Garreg Mach.”

Felix didn’t move, but he set the cleaning cloth aside and sheathed his blade. “It’s idiocy,” he said by way of reply. “The place is overrun by bandits according to all reports, and half of our house is dead and gone. What the hell is the point of going back now?”

Sylvain dropped his hand and frowned at Felix, his brown eyes sharp and suddenly angry. “We made a promise,” he said seriously. Sylvain rarely used this tone, preferring instead to mask his words behind a carefree façade. Felix understood that he really did place great importance on this trip, to speak of it so. “Ingrid’s going, and so am I. I’m sure Ashe will be there too since Castle Gaspard isn’t that far from the Monastery. And,” he added with a smirk. “A little birdie told me that Mercedes and Annette are already on their way. You’ll be the only one of us left who will break your promise when you have a chance to keep it.”

“It was a stupid promise anyway,” Felix said stubbornly. He ran a hand along the leather scabbard, absently tracing the etched insignia of House Fraldarius with one finger. _Glenn would already have left, too._

Sylvain stared at Felix with an unreadable expression and shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m not wasting my breath if you’ve made up your mind.”

He turned to go, walking slowly back toward the door and hands clasped loosely behind his head. Felix frowned at his retreating back, wondering again what he really wanted to do. He could go south on this absurd mission to uphold a ridiculously idealistic promise, or he could stay in Castle Fraldarius with his father, fighting a war that they had no real way of turning to their favour. _I’ve been cooped up with my old man for five years,_ he thought bitterly and fiddling with the clasp of his fur-lined cape. _Do I really want to stick around when I have a chance to get away?_

“Sylvain,” Felix said loudly, halting his friend in his tracks. He’d been walking too slowly, and Felix suspected he’d been expecting him to say something that would stop him. “Tell me, why are _you_ going?”

“We promised,” he replied immediately, not turning. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Felix growled impatiently. His amber eyes flashed as he stared at Sylvain’s straight back. “Why are you _really_ going?”

Sylvain sighed and turned back to face him. His eyes were hard, glowing with the embers of an old fire and his mouth was a thin line across his face. “I’m going because I hate being here, powerless to make a difference,” he said grimly. “The same reason Ingrid is going. We can’t change anything from here, but we might be able to from there.”

It was exactly what Annette had said in her letter, the very same sentiment. _We all feel the same way,_ Felix realized. _We all hate what’s happened, and we want to change it, but none of us have the power to do it from where we are now._

“There’s a very real possibility that we won’t be able to do anything,” Felix said bluntly. “This is a fool’s errand. We could die before we even arrive at Garreg Mach.”

Sylvain glanced over his shoulder. “We could,” he acknowledged. “But we won’t. You don’t really believe the three of us could be killed by bandits on the road.”

Felix grunted his agreement. “No, I don’t. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is a fool’s errand. The place is in ruins. We don’t even have a leader.”

Sylvain shrugged and started back toward the door. “We have to try. Now, are you coming or not?”

It wasn’t an answer. Sylvain knew as well as he did that the fractured Blue Lions that still remained would never be able to work together long enough to accomplish anything substantial without a real leader to rally behind. That had been Professor Byleth during their Academy days, but she had been dead and gone for five years. Although capable of working with others and leading soldiers, Felix preferred to work alone and didn’t much relish the idea of being responsible for the lot of them trying to fight an impossible war against the Empire. 

_Hell would probably freeze before Sylvain and Ingrid managed to follow each other’s orders,_ Felix thought ominously as he stood and fastened his sword to his belt. _Not to mention that Annette, Mercedes, and Ashe are all too bloody nice to make the hard decisions that a war leader needs to make._

Felix shook his head defeatedly and caught up to Sylvain in three long strides. “I can’t very well leave Ingrid to deal with you alone, can I?” he said grimly.

His friend laughed heartily, and Felix thought it sounded genuine. “She’d never let you live it down,” Sylvain finally said after his laughter had subsided. “That girl can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.”

\---

Predictably, Lord Rodrigue was not terribly happy about the prospect of losing two of their most promising soldiers on a ridiculous journey to the ruins of Garreg Mach. They stood facing Lord Rodrigue in his study, and Felix was content to let Sylvain do most of the talking; somehow, his best friend nearly always managed to get his way. 

“Sir,” Sylvain was saying earnestly, the embers in his brown eyes glowing fiercely. “We made this promise as Blue Lions five years ago. We may not all be here anymore, but those of us that remain must return.”

“This is foolish in the extreme,” Lord Rodrigue replied firmly, his eyes flashing like steel. His dark hair was starting to show streaks of grey and his face had become more heavily lined since the fight against Cornelia had begun. He looked very much like an old man who had lived too long despite his relative youth. “We need you here. You have a duty to our king and country.”

“We have no king,” Felix spat before he could stop himself. Sylvain shot him a warning glance which he ignored. He held his father’s gaze unflinchingly, steel against steel. “The king had been dead for almost a decade, and the boar has been missing for nearly five years. He’s probably dead too.”

Lord Rodrigue looked like Felix had slapped him. “How can you speak that way?” he asked in a dangerously low voice, his hands balling into fists on the desk. “You were once so close to Prince Dimitri. I can still remember how you used to—” 

“He changed,” Felix interrupted ruthlessly, his voice raw with emotions he had kept boxed away for years. “I changed. Face it, old man: this world has changed. We can’t win against Cornelia or the Emperor this way. We can’t win this war in Faerghus like this; we need to take it to _them,_ with or without the Blaiddyd family.”

“Don’t you care about Faerghus at all?” Lord Rodrigue snapped back, seeming to forget that Sylvain was in the room, having eyes only for his son. As it often did, the world seemed to melt away around them, leaving the broken remains of the Fraldarius family locked in an eternal struggle that no one else could fathom. “How can you think of leaving on this ludicrous quest at a time like this? Glenn wouldn’t have—” 

“Glenn would have gone,” Felix interrupted again, his voice rising with anger. “You know he would have, and you know you wouldn’t have stopped him. You can’t stop me either. I’ll go with or without your blessing.”

Lord Fraldarius seemed to lose his power of speech, gaping at Felix like a fish out of water. “That’s because I would still have had you,” he said in a strained voice. His steely eyes glinted with fresh tears. “If you go and die, I will have no one left.”

Sylvain cut in before Felix had a chance to make matters worse. “I can’t promise we won’t die,” he said to Lord Rodrigue, stamping his foot hard on top of Felix’s and glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. “But I swear to you on the honour of House Gautier, I will do everything in my power to return Felix back to you safely.” 

Bowing formally to Lord Rodrigue, they waited in silence for him to speak again. 

“Very well,” he finally said, carefully avoiding Felix’s eyes and focusing intently on Sylvain instead. “You may go to Garreg Mach on the condition that you return here as soon as it becomes apparent that you will die if you remain.”

“Yes, sir!” Sylvain saluted and grinned widely. “Thank you. We will make you, and Faerghus, proud.”

“I want to make it clear that I do not approve of this mission,” Lord Fraldarius continued, standing up from his desk and turning to stand in front of the tall window, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. “However, since you are going, I have my own request. There are rumors of a man…” he growled, his voice breaking as he stared out onto the snowy grounds below. “If they are true…”

“We’ll find out,” Sylvain assured Lord Rodrigue, glancing menacingly at Felix in a way that plainly implored him not to say anything. “I’ve heard there’s a man haunting the area near Garreg Mach that could be him, if he survived.”

 _Which he probably didn’t,_ Felix thought savagely, biting hard on his tongue to stop himself from ruining what Sylvain had salvaged of this conversation. _He’d need Nemesis’ own luck to have lived through all these years with an army after his head._

“The lot of you won’t be able to stand against the Empire alone,” Lord Rodrigue reaffirmed harshly, turning slowly to glare at both of them. His face was shadowed with the light behind him, and Felix was grateful that he couldn’t make out his father’s expression more clearly. “The Knights of Seiros abandoned that place years ago, and without them to bolster your ranks, you’re nothing but a band of vagabonds. Even _with_ the Knights, your chances of success are almost none.” 

Sylvain spread his hands out in acknowledgement. “You’re right, my lord,” he replied softly. “But we must try. We will send you a report as soon as we are able to do so.”

They stood in silence as the sun sank beneath the horizon and the snow continued to swirl down from the heavens. “Go,” Lord Rodrigue said finally, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. He turned back to the window. “Go now, and may the Goddess protect you on this mad quest.”

Together, they bowed formally and turned to leave the room. As he went, Felix paused to glance up at the portrait of his family, trying to memorize his mother’s lovely smile and his brother’s fierce features, faces he would never again see in the flesh and, if he died, would never again have the chance to see captured eternally in paint. He wondered what his mother would say about this quest, if she’d approve of his going south, hoping to find a way to turn the tides of this war despite the odds being stacked against them. Not for the first time, Felix wondered how his life would be different had she lived. His father had never remarried, never given his sons a mother-figure in their lives after she had died; would it have made a difference if he had? 

Felix didn’t know.

“Felix,” Lord Rodrigue said quietly from his place at the window. He did not turn, standing as still as a statue as he watched the snow fall outside his window, perhaps reminiscing of happier times. “Come home safely. I…”

He waited, but his father did not finish the thought. 

“I will,” Felix promised, turning away from the portrait and striding purposefully out of the room.

\---

They rode away at nightfall on two black horses with enough provisions to last them the journey south. It was the depths of winter, and the night was very cold; Felix drew his cloak further around his shoulders and tightened the scarf he’d wound around his face to protect from the freezing wind, though it didn’t seem to be doing much good. Neither man looked at the other as they rode, listening only to the sound of pounding hoofbeats against the frozen earth, an endless symphony of reckless abandon ushering them toward a foolhardy promise made during happier times. 

They arrived at Ingrid’s manor a few days later as dusk was falling, and a snowstorm (which had been brewing since they left Castle Fraldarius) was beginning to increase in intensity, making further travel impossible until it had passed. They spent two days at Galatea Manor during which Felix felt almost as trapped as he had back home, forced to listen to Ingrid and Sylvain debate the safest and most direct route to Garreg Mach. 

“We should follow this path,” Ingrid insisted, tracing her finger along the map that was spread out on the table. “It’s the most direct way to Garreg Mach from here.”

“It’s pretty close to Alliance territory,” Sylvain countered. He traced his finger along a different path deeper through Charon territory. “We should go this way; it will be safer. We can’t say how the Alliance will react if we travel so close to their borders.”

“That route adds at least two days of travel time,” Ingrid argued furiously. She leaned forward over the map and pointed to a spot closer to the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach. “We would need to cut back across this way due to the terrain—you and Felix can’t cross the mountains over there.”

“If we travel quickly, we can make up that lost time,” Sylvain pointed out. He stared desperately at Ingrid, willing her to agree. He grabbed her hand and moved her finger to another point on the map. “We aren’t carrying much with us, so we’ll be able to move fast. See, if we go here—” 

Ingrid snatched her hand away as though she’d been burned. Her cheeks were faintly pink. “We’ll let Felix decide,” she said instead, glancing at where Felix leaned against the window, staring out into the darkness and wondering vaguely how far Annette had travelled by now and whether or not she may have already met up with Mercedes. “Felix, you decide which way we should go.”

“Can’t you two agree on anything?” he asked grumpily, turning to glare at them and trying to push his own thoughts away. 

“No,” Ingrid and Sylvain said together. 

Even with Felix’s input, it took another hour before they agreed on a compromise between Ingrid and Sylvain’s suggested routes. When they finally left Galatea Manor the following morning, the snow was deep and despite their best efforts, travel was slow through the drifts as Felix and Sylvain were forced to frequently dismount and lead their mounts so as to avoid risking injury to the horses. For his part, Sylvain kept up a steady stream of increasingly creative curses as he watched Ingrid flying high above them on her white pegasus, while Felix silently cursed his luck at being stuck travelling on the ground with Sylvain the entire way.

“If you’re so against foot travel,” Felix finally said, his voice as biting as the freezing wind. “Then learn to fly a pegasus like her and leave me to travel alone in peace.”

Sylvain glared at him, but he kept his cursing more discrete from that point onward. 

As the group travelled further south, the snow became less deep and the wind slightly less cold, reinvigorating them with the knowledge that they were coming closer to their goal. The peaks surrounding Garreg Mach had come into view, and Felix felt a strange flutter of anticipation rising in his chest as they rode, wondering again whether this trip would be worth all the trouble it had already been. 

“Did you see anyone else?” Felix had asked Ingrid each evening over their small fire, his amber eyes reflecting the flames. His sword was laying across his knees, a dry cloth in his hand to run along its edge. They had encountered only a handful of bandits on their way south, but they’d run off when they realized they had no chance to win the fight. Felix had taken to polishing his sword in the evenings more to give his hands something to do than anything else. 

When he asked this question on the eve of their arrival back at Garreg Mach, Ingrid sighed heavily, looked up from the book she was reading (she never went anywhere without a book, it seemed) and pinned Felix with a withering stare. “You know I would have told you if I’d seen her,” Ingrid said with a hint of impatience. “If you were trying to avoid making Sylvain and I think you like Annette all these years, you’re not doing a very good job now.”

“It’s not like that at all,” Felix grunted, a little taken aback that Ingrid had so directly called him out on his complex feelings for a woman he hadn’t even seen in five years. “I meant if you’d seen anyone…I just want to be sure we’re not going to be the only ones showing up.”

Ingrid looked at Sylvain, who had been laying wrapped in his cloak by the fire and pretending not to listen to them. He rolled over and faced Felix, a wide grin splitting his face. “You don’t need to lie to us,” he assured his best friend. “I know that half the reason you even agreed to return to Garreg Mach was because you knew Annette was going.”

“That’s not true at all,” Felix said, avoiding their eyes and trying to keep his face impassive. “I just couldn’t let Ingrid deal with you alone.”

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment,” Ingrid replied with a chuckle. “I’m inclined to agree with Sylvain. You’ve never written anyone a letter just _because_ and yet you kept up a years-long correspondence with Annette? Felix, do us all of a favour, and stop lying to yourself.”

“We know you,” Sylvain added gently. “You haven’t been able to lie to us about this since like…halfway through our Academy year.”

“As long as you’re not like Sylvain,” Ingrid said with a smirk, her eyes dancing merrily in the firelight. “Oh, watching you deny your feelings is just like my favourite story—”

“Ingrid!” Felix hissed, feeling his cheeks begin to burn and not particularly appreciating being compared to a fictional character. “It’s really not like that…I haven’t even seen her for five years. There’s nothing between us.”

Ingrid laughed aloud and opened her book again. “Oh, Felix,” she said. “You’re such an idiot.”

\---

They woke before dawn the following morning and began again on their way to Garreg Mach. The familiar scenery was covered in a light dusting of snow and Felix was grateful that it wasn’t deep enough to slow their progress. He rode his black horse beside Sylvain, neither of them inclined for conversation so early in the morning. Sylvain—not being a morning person like Felix or Ingrid—looked very much like he was dozing in the saddle. Not wanting to offer an opportunity to continue the conversation from the night before, Felix decided not to say anything that would bring Sylvain further into the world of the living. 

_It’s really not like that,_ Felix insisted to himself as he pondered the conversation from the night before, staring straight ahead through the dark trees. He could hear the snow crunching loudly beneath the hooves of his horse, the only sound in the silent forest. _I just…_

Felix hated it when Ingrid was right. 

He’d never kept up a correspondence even with his own friends, keeping any letters he’d sent to them (and those were very few) brief and to the point. Even Annette’s songs had been ensconced in his head since their Academy days, and even if he couldn’t quite remember the sound of her voice after five years apart, Felix could still remember every word she’d sung. He’d found a copy of her favourite poet’s songs in the Fraldarius library and sent it to her because he knew she’d like it, and he’d felt _so_ satisfied when her next letter had confirmed just how happy she was to receive it. He couldn’t even remember what he’d given to Ingrid, his once sister-in-law-to-be, for her birthday last year, if he’d given her anything at all.

Felix could also remember how angry he’d been when his father had said “the Dominic girl” wouldn’t make a good marriage partner for him simply because she wasn’t from a good enough family. He’d avoided speaking to him for over a week, caving only because they were in the middle of a war and he’d needed to confer with Lord Rodrigue about their battle strategy. He still hadn’t forgiven him for that slight against her. Sylvain had been right; Annette was half the reason Felix had agreed to return to Garreg Mach despite knowing it was pointless. She might even have been more than half the reason, if Felix was being truly honest with himself.

Felix hated it when Sylvain was right. 

He had never been able to forget about Annette, and it hadn’t just been because they had been exchanging letters. She invaded his thoughts regardless of whether he was awake or sleeping, the memory of her voice calming his nerves and making his heart pound painfully in his chest. He’d woken during the night more than once over the years, his skin damp with sweat and feeling a desire in his body that he couldn’t suppress. Those feelings scared and excited him more than the thought of facing the entirety of Cornelia’s army alone.

His heart thudded in his chest and it was a wonder that Sylvain couldn’t hear it. Felix glanced at his friend as Sylvain yawned widely and cupped a hand to his ear. “Do you hear that?” he asked groggily. Sylvain leaned forward over his mount’s neck as if he were trying to hear something more clearly. “Listen.”

Felix leaned forward and listened too. “The sounds of battle,” he said quietly, feeling a knot of excitement uncoil in his stomach. It was just what he needed—something to distract himself from his wandering thoughts. 

“Do you suppose…” Sylvain began uncertainly. He gripped the reins of his stallion tightly and glanced upward. “Ingrid!”

The wind around them picked up as Ingrid directed her pegasus to land on the pathway in front of them, her windblown hair sticking out at odd angles from her headdress. “They’re ahead fighting bandits in the ruins,” she said breathlessly, her face alight with excitement. “Everyone!”

“Everyone?” Felix echoed. “What do you mean, everyone?”

“Everyone!” she said again, looking more excited than she had in a long time. Her green eyes shone with the unmistakable signs of hope. “Oh, Ashe and Mercedes and Annette, they’re all there! And you won’t believe it, but I swear to you, I saw Dimitri and Professor Byleth too!”

Felix and Sylvain stared at Ingrid in shocked silence. 

“You’re kidding,” Sylvain finally managed. “The Professor died, Ingrid. She can’t be here.”

“You mean to tell me that the boar has been alive all this time?” Felix growled, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And yet no one’s seen him since his execution in Fhirdiad?”

“Yes,” Ingrid said, her eyes shining with wonder. “I can’t explain it, but we need to get there to help them! There are so many bandits, I’m afraid they’re outnumbered.”

Felix had already leapt off his horse and was tying its reins to a nearby tree. He couldn’t fight on horseback the way his friends could. “You go ahead,” he snapped at them even as they urged their mounts forward. “I’ll catch up!”

 _Annette,_ Felix thought as he ran after them, his feet thudding loudly across the frozen ground. _Just wait, I’m coming for you!_

\---

The battle in the ruins was invigorating for Felix, a perfect outlet to the tumult of emotions he’d been struggling with throughout their journey back to the Monastery. They entered the battle from the rear, and Felix felt a familiar thrill rush through his body as he clashed swords with the first bandit he saw. He grinned wildly, feeling more alive than in all the time he’d spent cooped up in Castle Fraldarius waiting for the spring thaw to come so they could fight continue the stalemate against Cornelia’s forces outside of Fhirdiad. He couldn’t see his old classmates through the ruins, but he could see flashes of fire and lightning in the sky. He didn’t need to wonder who was casting those spells.

As a whole, the bandits were not a difficult enemy. They were poorly armed and even more poorly trained; they broke ranks as soon as they saw Felix charging toward them, scattering in fear of his glittering blade, and falling one by one as he reached them. Felix could hear Professor Byleth shouting orders above the din somehow, the familiarly toneless voice she’d always used. It had to be her; there was no one else in the world who spoke like that. But Felix didn’t have time to wonder how she’d come back from the dead, or what she’d been doing for five years if indeed she’d been alive this whole time. 

He cut his way alone through scores of men, his reflexes too quick to allow himself to be hit. It was refreshing to be fighting an enemy that they could actually defeat, instead of the Empire soldiers who had held Fhirdiad for so long. Felix had lived by his sword for as long as he could remember, and the thrill of battle filled him with life. He could see Ingrid wheeling on her mount high above him, swooping down occasionally to skewer unsuspecting enemies. Nearby, he could see Sylvain wielding his lance with one hand just as he raised the other to cast a fireball toward a clump of terrified bandits. The ruins where filled with the screams of the dead and dying, and the stench of scorched flesh filled Felix’s nostrils. 

The battle was over too soon. Felix breathed heavily as he mounted the stairs up to where the leader of this sorry band had been waiting, only to find him already dead on the ground in a pool of red blood. He held his sword loosely in one hand as he surveyed the gathering atop the lookout tower, hardly able to believe that this reunion had really happened, and that they’d actually managed to keep this foolhardy promise. His sharp eyes fell on Professor Byleth where she stood before him, looking no older than when he’d last seen her at the Battle of Garreg Mach. 

“Felix,” she said, striding forward and shaking his hand firmly. She tried to smile, but it looked awkward, as though she was not used to the motions of it anymore. “I’m glad to see you made it back.”

“Professor,” he replied in acknowledgement, his eyes already sliding past her to the hulking man standing in the shadows. “I’m surprised, though not unhappy, to see you alive again.”

He stared at Dimitri and thought he looked more like a skeleton than his own father ever had. There was no mistaking his hulking form for anyone else—Felix would have recognized his old friend anywhere, no matter how he looked. Dimitri’s blond hair was filthy, hanging down into his face and partially covering an eyepatch over his right eye. Felix vaguely wondered how he’d lost an eye and decided it didn’t matter so long as the boar could still wield a lance. They stared at each other in silence. 

“You’re alive,” Felix said coldly to Dimitri. 

“No,” Dimitri replied. His voice was rough with disuse. “I’m not.”

Felix didn’t bother to respond. They stared at each other in tense silence, sizing each other up and wondering how much more they’d both changed over five years. _Father will be thrilled,_ Felix thought savagely as Ingrid landed and rushed over to greet Dimitri. _His favourite other son is alive after all, if not well._

The sun was rising now, lighting the top of the lookout tower in a rosy glow that contrasted the tense reunion that was taking place. Felix, in his usual fashion, stood alone on the far side of the tower, wiping his blade with a cloth from his pocket until he could spend more time properly cleansing the grime and blood from it. Ingrid and Ashe were hugging and talking animatedly about all the things they’d experienced in five years while Professor Byleth stood off to the side and conferred in a quiet voice with Sir Gilbert, the bastard that Felix wished very much to face in battle for no reason other than how he’d made his daughter cry over and over again. Five years had done nothing to assuage his fury toward the man.

“It’s been too long!” Sylvain’s most flirtatious voice floated across the lookout tower. “You ladies are lovelier than I remember! I fear my heart might stop if I gaze upon your beauty for too long.”

“Oh, Sylvain,” Mercedes’ lilting voice drifted to Felix’s ears now, and he turned his head toward it as though he’d been pulled by a string. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Sylvain was walking up the opposite stairs with an arm around both Mercedes and Annette, a fact which made Felix’s heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest. He realized suddenly that he’d never once given a thought to how Annette would have changed over five years; in his mind, she’d always looked exactly as she did during their Academy days, her hair in little looped braids and wearing the standard school uniform that marked her as part of the Officer’s Academy. She’d always remained looking like a teenager in his mind, young and naïve, yet unceasingly cheerful with a permanent smile. 

“I can’t believe anyone would take you seriously, saying things like that!” Annette giggled, smiling so brightly that Felix wondered if he was still breathing. He was staring—he knew he was staring—but he couldn’t stop himself. 

_We’ve all changed,_ he thought, remembering the words he’d thrown like daggers at his father before leaving Castle Fraldarius. _She’s changed, too._

The rosy light of the dawn caught the colour of Annette’s long orange hair and it glowed like fire, her blue eyes shining as she looked around the tower and caught sight of all her friends. She rushed over to Ingrid and threw her arms around the taller woman, exclaiming how lovely her short hair looked just as Ingrid praised Annette’s own loose curls. Professor Byleth was next to approach and accept a hug from the little mage, her fingers clinging tightly to the Professor’s cloak. Mutely, Felix sheathed his sword as Ashe stepped forward and swung Annette around in an ungainly circle as they laughed and hugged each other tightly. 

Coming to a stop and disentangling herself from Ashe’s embrace, Annette stepped back and turned to Ingrid. Felix saw Ingrid grin wickedly and lift her arm to point at where he stood, half-hidden in the shadows on the other side of the tower and trying not to look like he’d been unable to stop staring her. His heart pounded in his chest when Annette smiled more widely and bounded over to him, hiking her skirts up as she ran and throwing her arms around him, propriety be damned. She collided with him so hard that Felix lost his balance for a moment as he awkwardly wound his arms around her back, uncomfortably aware of how close she was and of how everyone seemed to be staring at them.

“You came!” Annette cried, pulling away from him both far too soon and far too late. “Oh, Felix, I’m so glad you came back.”

Felix hated it when Ingrid and Sylvain were right. He _did_ like Annette, and he had liked her for a very long time. The truth he’d been trying to deny stood in front of him now, bathed in the light of dawn, glowing with such joy and love at being reunited with everyone—even _him_ —that it almost hurt to look at her. He wasn’t sure why he’d ever considered not coming back, especially when he knew she would be here. Not returning seemed more foolish than this promise ever had.

“So am I,” Felix replied so quietly that only Annette could hear. “It’s good to be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the reunion! It will be continued in the next chapter with Annette of course :) There's lots to do now that the gang is back together. 
> 
> From here on out, we get to amp up the angst and the romance! I noticed a lot of people are interested to see feral Dimitri, so there will definitely be more of him in the coming chapters as well. All these Blue Lions--especially our boys--really need some big hugs :( 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I love reading all your comments and thoughts on where I'm going with the story. I'll see you again soon with the next chapter :)
> 
> Love, Kami


	21. Days Gone By

The Monastery truly was in ruins.

After their reunion at dawn, the Blue Lions had gathered their few possessions and mounts before processing together back up the slope into the once-vibrant marketplace. The proud walls of Garreg Mach were broken in many places, huge stones littering the grounds where they had once been able to walk freely. Annette couldn’t help but feel an immense sadness that this beautiful place had fallen so far since its days of glory not so long ago and missed how it used to be so welcoming and full of life. She had so many wonderful memories from her days as a student, and it hurt to see the place so dark and overrun with weeds. 

They followed Professor Byleth through the entrance hall, speaking in low voices as they walked. The banners that used to hang from the ceilings were torn and lay in heaps on the dirty marble floor. Rats scurried away into the shadows as they passed, beady eyes watching the group suspiciously. Annette clutched Mercedes’ arm tighter. 

“This is horrible,” she said as they passed through the gardens. Despite the winter cold, it was clear the hedges had been left to grow wildly, and debris littered the pathways. “It’s even worse than I imagined.”

Mercedes nodded and squeezed her arm in reassurance. “We’ll find a way to put things to rights,” she said soothingly. “Now that we’re back together, we can do anything.”

After a brief tour of the grounds, Professor Byleth ushered them into the knight’s hall. It was cold and dark, with a thick layer of dust coating every surface and a surplus of cobwebs stretching across the room. Annette tried to bite back a squeak of terror as a thick black spider scurried past her boots, yanking Mercedes’ arm awkwardly and bumping straight into Felix’s chest behind her. “Sorry, sorry,” she whispered to each of them. “Just…just a spider.”

“It’s fine, Annie,” Mercedes said in her most gentle voice and patting Annette’s hand sympathetically. “Remember, the spider is more frightened of you than you are of him.”

“Right,” Annette stammered, glancing over her shoulder in the direction the spider had scurried off. “I’m sure you’re right, Mercie…”

Behind her, Felix snorted derisively. “I never thought the great mage who has faced down numerous black beasts could be frightened by something as tiny as a spider,” he noted with a smirk. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword while he reached to scratch the back of his neck with the other. 

“I’m not scared!” Annette squeaked in a much higher pitched tone than she would have liked. It did nothing to help her case. Mercedes glanced between them and smiled more devilishly than Annette had thought she was capable of doing. “I was just…startled. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Felix replied with a shrug, apparently no longer interested in the conversation. “Whatever you say.”

“Annie, come here and see if you can set these logs alight,” Mercedes interrupted primly. She pulled Annette away with a surprising amount of force and pushed her in front of the dead fireplace. “Go on, we could use the light.”

Several minutes later, the room was filled with the warm glow of a crackling fire. Numerous other spiders were unceremoniously dislodged from their webs as the group brushed the dust from the couches and squeezed together like sardines around the fireplace. Dimitri leaned against a wall apart from the others, looking more like a walking corpse than a living man. His hollow face made Annette feel like she was being watched by a ghost, and she felt a shiver run violently through her spine. The fugitive prince took no notice of her, staring instead at Professor Byleth who stood and stared back to him without a hint of shyness or intimidation. 

Taking a seat comfortably between Ashe and Mercedes, Annette found herself feeling much more at home now that she was surrounded by all her friends once more. She had been waiting for this day to come, though she wished their reunion wasn’t quite so dour now that the initial moments of joy had passed. She supposed it was only to be expected; they had all suffered in the five years since the Battle of Garreg Mach, and this was no time for a real class reunion. Still, Annette couldn’t hold back her joy at reuniting with her friends. The long trip south had been worth every minute of hardship. 

“Annette, it’s so good to see you again,” Ashe said earnestly, gripping her hands tightly and pulling her close for another one-armed hug. “I was so worried when I read your last letter that you’d be in danger on your way here.”

People were still milling around the room, slowly finding space to sit around the fire. Annette laughed as Felix passed behind their couch and saw how he seemed to stiffen when Ashe spoke. “I’m an accomplished mage,” she said with mock offense, her wide smile somewhat ruining the effect of her words. Even without turning, Annette could tell Felix was leaning against the wall by the fireplace behind her. She hadn’t changed since their Academy days; she could still sense his presence in a room and orient herself around him without even needing to see him. “Nothing could have stopped me from coming back here.”

“That’s good. I’m sure we will need your magic in what’s to come,” he replied seriously. The freckles across the bridge of his nose stood out more than they had during their Academy days, but with the obvious growth spurt he’d had, Ashe looked more mature than he had before. He probably hadn’t really been allowed to finish his childhood, certainly not after how Lord Lonato had died and left him to protect his siblings and the people of Gaspard. 

“How are your siblings?” Annette asked, trying to shift the subject away from her flight south. “Will they be all right without you?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Ashe assured her with a grin. “My brother has been training with the sword so that he can help protect the younger ones while I’m away. I told him to send for me if anything goes amiss.”

“That’s wonderful!” Annette withdrew her hands from Ashe’s and folded them in her lap. “I hope we can do something from here to keep them safe.”

“I do too,” Ashe agreed somberly. “I can’t imagine losing any of them.”

The fire crackled on the hearth as the others began to settle themselves around the room. Professor Byleth sat on the centre couch with Sir Gilbert while Ingrid and Sylvain sat as far away from each other on the third couch as space would allow. Annette glanced at her father and tightened her fists in her lap when he wouldn’t look at her. She hadn’t expected him to be here.

“You arrived with…him,” she said quietly to Ashe, trying to mask the pain in her voice. “Right?”

Ashe blinked and had the decency to look uncomfortable. “That’s right,” he said awkwardly. His eyes held genuine sorrow. “I’m sorry…the Knights have been stopping at Castle Gaspard from time to time over the years. He happened to be there when I was preparing to leave.”

“I see,” Annette replied in as neutral a tone as she could manage. “That’s good…we’ll need the help.”

He didn’t know how to reply. Annette couldn’t blame him; she knew it was an awkward topic at best, and she’d called him out on it, but she needed to understand why her father was here and not at home with her mother. They hadn’t had any word of his whereabouts since the Battle of Garreg Mach, and Annette had feared he might be dead. Ashe turned away from her and played with the fraying edge of his old cloak. A heavy silence filled the room as whispered conversations died and the reality of their situation began to sink in.

Professor Byleth stood and looked around the room, her green eyes shining in the firelight. The anomaly among them all, only she remained as unchanged as the day they’d thought she died, young and strong, unscarred by the past five years. If the knight’s hall hadn’t been so covered in grime and the Monastery grounds in ruins from the great battle, and none of them looked like they’d seen an eon come and pass in only five years, Annette might even have believed they’d all gathered together after a particularly difficult lesson in combat. 

_The time for lessons has passed,_ she thought sadly, drinking in the dismal expressions of those around her.

“We’re back,” Professor Byleth said without preamble. She was never one to sugar-coat reality. “Short one member of our class. Dimitri, where is Dedue?”

Dimitri’s one good eye flashed dangerously at the Professor, but she didn’t seem to notice. “He’s dead,” the prince spat hoarsely, his voice raw with untamed rage. “He died to help me escape…”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Professor Byleth said, her voice gentler than it had been. Still, she maintained a firm stance and fixed Dimitri with a frown. “I understand much has happened while I have been…indisposed. I imagine the war with Edelgard has not gone well, judging by the state of this place.”

“No,” Gilbert affirmed in his heavy voice. Annette stared at the floor, feeling tears welling in the corner of her eyes and willing them not to fall in front of everyone. “Lady Rhea went missing during the battle, and the Knights of Seiros have been searching for her in vain ever since.”

“Such a shame that the Knights haven’t been helping anyone actually _fight_ the Empire,” Felix interrupted coldly. Everyone swivelled in their seats to stare at him in surprise. His handsome face was stormy, his voice as hard as steel. “The war might be over by now if they had. We could certainly have used their reinforcements.”

“Finding Lady Rhea is of the utmost importance,” Gilbert replied icily, fixing Felix with his most potent glare. Annette glanced between them, trying to catch Felix’s eye and silently implore him to let this go, but he did not look at her. He seemed to be locked in a staring contest with her father. “Without her, we are nothing.”

“Nothing?” Felix spat in a nearly perfect imitation of Dimitri. “Nothing? You have the most elite fighters this Academy has produced in five years sitting before you, and you have the _gall_ to say that we’re nothing without the Archbishop? Forgive my disbelief,” he added nastily, stroking the hilt of his blade menacingly. 

“Enough,” Professor Byleth cut in sharply before Gilbert could respond. “Felix, you have made your point. We cannot change the past, but we can change our future. I require a full report of what has transpired since our last battle together.”

Ingrid took the initiative to summarize the events of the years since the Battle of Garreg Mach in an attempt to forestall further altercations between Felix and Gilbert. Annette glanced at the swordsman as Ingrid spoke, but he still wouldn’t return her gaze. He had his eyes fixed on her father, an obvious fury burning in their amber depths. The intensity of it scared Annette more than she wanted to admit. She’d seen this kind of look from Felix before, and it had always been on the battlefield as he felled one enemy after another. 

“I see,” Professor Byleth mused after Ingrid finished recounting the tale. “This is grave news indeed. Even with the best elite warriors already gathered here,” she inclined her head toward Felix in acknowledgement of his words. “If we are to make a stand against the Empire, we will need more support.”

“I am still in contact with the remaining Knights of Seiros,” Gilbert said smoothly, turning fully to face Professor Byleth. “I will send word to Seteth and ask him to gather them here. We can use this place as our base of operations.”

Sylvain shifted in his seat and leaned forward. “This place is in ruins,” he said bluntly. “We’ll need to make it livable again to use it as a base, and we absolutely do _not_ have the manpower to do that.”

“On top of that, isn’t this place being watched by the Empire?” Ingrid added shrewdly. “It’s such a strategic location, right in the middle of each of the three great powers in this world.”

“It’s too far from the frontlines of the war to be of much importance to the Empire,” Gilbert waved away Ingrid’s concerns with his gloved hand. “It will be perfect for us since they won’t be expecting us to come back here.”

“I wouldn’t doubt Edelgard has this place under surveillance,” Felix grunted. “We would be foolish not to expect an attack once she realizes we’re here.”

Gilbert didn’t bother to respond to him this time. “There are some villages and hamlets nearby still,” he went on as though Felix hadn’t spoken. “They are not abundant, but I am sure we can get supplies from them. Once word has spread that we’re here, I am sure we will be able to attract builders and the like who can help with the most important repairs.”

Professor Byleth leaned her head against her hand and thought about the suggestion for several minutes. “I agree,” she said finally. “We’ll need to split up chores again to bring this place back into a livable space, but I think it’s doable. We don’t have any better options without travelling, and this place is ready-made to use as a base once we spruce it back up.”

“Are you in agreement, Your Highness?” Gilbert asked pointedly to Dimitri. 

“Do as you like,” the big man growled. The shadows under his eyes looked deeper than they had before, and his face looked more haunted. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t act like this doesn’t concern you,” Annette murmured, gripping the fabric of her dress tightly in her hands. “We’ve all just reunited. It’s like old times again.”

“Do as you like,” Dimitri said again, not looking at her at all. “I want that woman’s head. Nothing else.”

Annette felt her stomach drop as she heard the venom in Dimitri’s voice. He’d never spoken so harshly before, not even before the Battle of Garreg Mach when he’d begun to change. He’d always seemed like he was carrying burdens far beyond his years, but Dimitri had always spoken gently. He scared her now more than ever, and Annette didn’t doubt he would have no qualms about cutting Edelgard down if given the chance. 

“Annette is right,” Ashe piped up bravely. He would have trembled to stand up to someone like Dimitri once; now, his voice was steady. There was no fear in him. “We need to work together, or we’ll never be able to overthrow the Empire.”

“It’s natural to feel impatient,” Gilbert added. He didn’t look at Annette and he didn’t make any reference to her words. It hurt more than she wanted it to, even though she’d been expecting it. “But we need to be patient if we wish to be successful.”

“You’re all fools,” Dimitri said coldly. 

“Settle down,” Professor Byleth commanded. She glared at Dimitri as if he’d offended her personally. “We need to work together. We’ll die here if we don’t.”

“Stay out of this,” the prince snapped at her. He was visibly shaking with barely controlled rage. “I’m here only to fight. Nothing more.”

“I’ll give you someone to fight,” Felix growled. Annette heard the sound of steel scraping against the scabbard hanging at his side. “Maybe a good spar will bring you back to your senses.”

“Enough!” Professor Byleth said again, her eyes blazing with anger. “We cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves. Put up your sword, Felix.”

“Your Highness, we are not your enemies,” Gilbert insisted. He stared at the prince imploringly. “Work with us, and we will surely succeed in defeating the Empire.”

Dimitri turned his gaze to Gilbert. “My enemies say the same,” he said harshly. There was an air of finality to the words, as if to say the discussion was over. He turned to go without another word, leaving the group sitting in a stunned silence. 

“What happened to him?” Felix muttered, staring after him with wide eyes. “He’s like a completely different person.”

“Perhaps we can help him,” Mercedes suggested in her soothing voice. “I’ll make tea. That never fails to cheer you up when you’re upset.”

Professor Byleth stared at the door through which Dimitri had gone, her face betraying her concern. She didn’t show much emotion, but there was pain in her green eyes that nobody could miss. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the former students and smiled grimly. 

“We’ll get started without him,” she said quietly. “Blue Lions, let’s split up and do a more thorough investigation of the area to see what’s usable and what’s not, and then we can make plan for how we’re going to tackle this restoration project.”

\---

The day passed quickly as they worked to survey the grounds of the Monastery. Annette was pleased to see that the dormitories and greenhouse had not sustained any damage. It would ensure they had a place to sleep and allow them to grow some of their own food so that there would be no need to rely on shipping in expensive supplies from other regions. Her father had told Professor Byleth the Knights had some war funds, but no one was naïve enough to believe that they could afford to ship supplies in for an extended period of time. The sooner they could become self-sufficient, the better.

The dining hall was in good condition as well, to Annette’s relief. The pantries were full of spoiled provisions, which Mercedes directed Ashe, Annette, and Ingrid to haul out as quickly as possible so that they could set to cleaning the area on the morrow in preparation for restocking it with fresh food. It was foul work, but Annette did it without complaint, focusing her mind on how much more enjoyable it was to be surrounded by her friends rather than under house arrest back at the Dominic manor. 

In the evening, the small band of former students clustered together around the tiny table in the knight’s hall to warm themselves by the blazing fire and devour the few provisions they had leftover from their travels to Garreg Mach. Conversation was rather subdued given that Dimitri had not returned the partake in the meal, and Professor Byleth kept glancing at the door in case he might suddenly enter through it, completely losing track of the conversation that Gilbert was trying to engage her in. 

For her part, Annette found herself standing in front of the old bookcase in the knight’s hall, running one finger along the old, dusty spines in case any of them might prove useful for their upcoming battles. She’d never taken the time to look through them before, preferring to spend her time in the library with its impressive stack of tomes and comfortable chairs in which to read. Not to mention that she’d always felt a little vulnerable in this place, ever since she’d spent two separate occasions in various states of emotional distress with the one person who she’d hated allowing to see her looking so weak and inadequate. 

“Annette? Is everything all right?”

She jumped a little at the sound of her name and turned to face Ingrid. The blonde woman was holding a cup of water in one hand and smiling benignly at her. Annette still wasn’t used to seeing her with short hair, but the look suited Ingrid’s fierce personality. “Hey, Ingrid,” she said, returning the smile briefly before sighing heavily. “This isn’t quite the reunion I envisioned.”

“I know,” she replied gravely, a flicker of sorrow flashing through her green eyes. “We should be dressed in our finest outfits and dancing and feasting, but instead…” Ingrid gestured widely with her arms, unable to find an appropriate word to describe the state of the Monastery and the monumental task of making it habitable again. 

“It’s such a shame,” Annette agreed solemnly. She clasped her hands together in front of her and tried to smile again. _Mother always used to say a smile and a song could go a long way to making a bad day a good one,_ she thought, and added aloud “How have things been on the frontlines in Faerghus?”

It was Ingrid’s turn to sigh and shook her head ruefully. “Difficult,” she said honestly. “We’ve been outnumbered since the beginning, and getting supplies to our army has been a huge challenge. It’s only due to Duke Fraldarius’ leadership that we were able to bring the war to a stalemate, but there’s been no hope of turning the tides to our favour yet.”

“I wish I could have been of help to the war effort,” Annette replied glumly. “I felt so useless. What’s the point in magic if I can’t use it to help people?”

Ingrid laughed softly and took a swig of her water. “Oh, Annette, you were plenty help even so,” she said, still chuckling. “More than you know!”

“I don’t see how,” Annette said, raising her eyebrow and looking at Ingrid with frank curiosity. “I couldn’t leave the barony.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just trust me,” Ingrid said, another smile on her lips. “Were you looking for anything in particular just now?”

Annette glanced back at the books and shook her head. “No, not really. I was wondering if there’s any old spellbooks here that might help me learn more potent magic for the war effort, but so far, they mostly seem to be geared toward melee combat.”

“Seteth might know where to find something like that, if he returns to Garreg Mach,” Ingrid said helpfully. “You should ask him to point you in the right direction.”

After several more minutes of vague conversation about where she might be able to find some old spellbooks, Ingrid excused herself to get some sleep after the long journey south. They’d all been up since before dawn and exhaustion had long since begun to set in. Ashe and Mercedes had already left, and Sylvain had fallen asleep along one of the couches while Felix had somehow managed to convince Professor Byleth to spar with him on the other side of the room. She didn’t know where her father had gone and tried not to wonder; she didn’t have the emotional strength to deal with him tonight. 

Deciding that there was no point remaining in the knight’s hall with no one to talk to, Annette fastened her old brown cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood up over her head before heading out into the cold night air. Despite her own exhaustion, Annette didn’t feel ready to sleep. She walked slowly through the ruined grounds of the Monastery, remembering her days as a student and wishing they weren’t so far gone. Ingrid was right, after all; they _should_ be feasting and dancing tonight, celebrating the Millennium Festival in lavish fashion, toasting for another millennium of brilliance and glory, not wandering through the wreckage of a war that had already lasted far too long. 

She saw her father in the graveyard with Dimitri and hurried past before either of them spotted her, though she had no real worry that they might wish to speak with her. Dimitri was so much more distant than he used to be, and her father had never yet spoken to her since that one night during her Academy year. It hurt, but Annette was used to the pain; she’d learned to live with it, just as she had learned to live with her mother’s sorrow. It was an inescapable part of the fabric of her life, no matter how much she tried to change it. 

With no real destination in mind, Annette’s wandering feet brought her at last to the heavy doors of the Cathedral. She stood in front of the old wood for a moment and brushed her fingers against them gently before deciding to push them open. They creaked loudly, unused to the movement after standing closed for so long. 

Her heart sank to see the Cathedral in such a sorry state. A pile of wood beams and broken stone blocked the entrance to the Holy Mausoleum and most of the altar. The statue of the Goddess was also broken, her outstretched arm buried in the pile of debris at her feet. Annette stared up at the beautiful stained-glass window above the statue and felt gladdened to see it had escaped damage. It seemed so long ago that she’d last stood here alone and offered a song as a prayer to the Goddess. 

The heavy doors creaked open behind her, and Annette turned to glance over her shoulder. The far end of the Cathedral was shrouded in darkness (she hadn’t thought to use her magic to light the candles or the wall sconces) but she could hear footsteps heading toward her. They weren’t loud, so she doubted it was anyone wearing heavy armour. “Who’s there?” she called. “Sorry, I’m in the way. I’ll just be going—”

“You can stay,” Felix said smoothly as he stepped into the moonlight. He looked surprised to see her. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I thought you were sparring,” Annette replied, raising her eyebrows. “I was just taking a walk before bed, and I hadn’t seen the Cathedral yet…”

She glanced around pointedly, and Felix nodded in understanding.

“It’s in a bad state,” he agreed, folding his arms across his chest and looking around the room critically. “We can’t possibly repair this place without more help.”

They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes and Annette desperately wished it had been _anyone_ else to walk in than Felix. He was a little taller than she remembered, and he’d taken to wearing his hair tied back into a neat warrior’s tail rather than the silly bun he’d sported as a student. His face seemed to be chiseled from marble in the moonlight and Annette realized how unfairly handsome he’d become since she’d last seen him. Her old crush hadn’t quite faded away during the five years since they’d escaped from the Battle of Garreg Mach, and seeing him now brought back all those feelings she’d carefully controlled in full force. It was hard to acknowledge that she would never have a chance to tell him, to explain to him in excruciating detail, how she’d lost her heart to him before she’d even realized it.

“Do you still sing?” Felix asked suddenly, his eyes intense on hers. He took a step closer and the space between them became too small. She could see his long, dark eyelashes and the way his lips were chapped from the cold weather. His breathing was too fast, but she couldn’t say why despite how it made her heart thump madly in her chest.

“What?” Annette asked stupidly, blinking in surprise. “Well, yes. Sometimes.”

Felix stared at her as if trying to read her thoughts. “I see.”

“I’m not singing for you,” Annette stammered, feeling her face going pink for no good reason. He hadn’t even asked her to sing. “Villain!”

“I didn’t think you would,” he replied coolly, though Annette thought she could see him smirking. He seemed to realize how close he’d come to her and took a deliberate step away. “I just wondered.”

“Well…now you know,” she said awkwardly. “I thought you’d forget about that after all these years.”

Felix shook his head, the moonlight dancing off his navy hair and making it shine like the depths of the night sky. “You should know me better than that,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes again. He turned away, the shadows hiding his expression. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Felix, wait!” Annette said quickly, her voice high pitched. It echoed through the broken sanctuary. “I just…wanted to thank you.”

He paused with his back still turned, but he glanced over his shoulder. “For what?”

She didn’t know why she’d said that, or why she’d called him back in the first place. It seemed immensely foolish, and she hated to look like that in front of him. Felix seemed to do everything with the same precision with which he handled his sword, and she knew he had a judgemental streak to him. He could be unnecessarily cruel with his words only to turn around and be just as startlingly kind. Annette had been fascinated by him since they met, and he’d shown her kindness for no other reason than because he chose to. 

“For writing to me,” Annette replied, smiling. 

Felix’s expression was unreadable. He stared at her with the same intense eyes as before, as if trying to discern something in her face before he made a response. She remembered that about him, how he’d watch her intently while they studied magic together, listening closely to everything she said and taking painstaking notes, punctuating each session with poignant questions about spellcasting. They’d formed an unlikely friendship, all things considered, and Annette had missed it. Felix’s letters had been a comfort during her lonely days in Baron Dominic’s manor, reminding her in his own abrasive way to stay strong and safe, even though she was nowhere near the frontlines.

“I said I would,” Felix responded, frowning in confusion. “I keep my promises.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” she said again, the smile fading as her tone became sombre. “It’s good to be back here. I hated not being able to do anything to help during the war.”

“You were safer where you were,” Felix said immediately in a harsh voice, adopting a dark expression. She wondered what memories had come to mind for him. 

“Still, I wanted to help!” Annette insisted, feeling taken aback at the tone of his voice and the way his amber eyes blazed furiously at her. “All I did was sit in my room and write letters. I was useless.”

“You didn’t want to be there,” he said flatly. “Trust me. You’ll see enough of it now, anyway. Edelgard won’t leave us alone once she realizes we’re back.”

Another silence settled over them as Annette pondered Felix’s words, knowing he was right and still hating how little she’d been able to contribute to the war effort thus far. She’d sat safely at home with her mother, far from her friends and powerless to protect anyone. _Like a caged songbird,_ she thought mutinously. _Pretty to listen to, but ultimately useless._

“I know,” she said quietly, glancing at her pale hands. “But now I can _do_ something other than write letters and sing silly songs to myself. I’m sure we can win against the Empire now that we’re together again. It’s just too bad that our class reunion is so dismal.”

Felix shrugged. “It’s war. We shouldn’t even be _having_ a class reunion. By the way,” he added suddenly, eyes narrowing as a thought struck him. “Why in the world did you think it was a good idea to travel alone all the way back here?”

“Well…I didn’t have a choice,” Annette replied in surprise. “I had no one to travel with, and my uncle had me under close watch. I had to leave at nightfall on my mother’s horse. He sent Dominic soldiers after me, but I was able to stay ahead of them.”

“He sent soldiers after you?” Felix repeated incredulously, his amber eyes wide. The familiar anger was back and his hands balled into fists at his side. “You mean to tell me you ran away?”

“Umm…yes.”

“You idiot!” Felix snapped, stepping forward again until he was towering over her. “You could have _died_ before you even got here, trapped between soldiers or bandits on the way.”

Annette felt her temper rising. “Excuse me?” she growled, her own blue eyes narrowed angrily back at him. “What would you have done in my place?”

“I would have stayed where I was,” Felix replied stonily.

“Liar,” she snapped, taking a step closer and poking him in the chest for emphasis. “You know you’d have left too. Besides,” she added coldly. “My mother told me to go. She knew I wanted to come back and help.”

“You could have died,” Felix argued, his voice rising. “A woman crossing Faerghus alone in the middle of a war—it’s ludicrous!”

“I met up with Mercie,” Annette shot back, hands on her hips now. She didn’t know why she felt the need to defend herself from Felix’s interrogation, but somehow, she had begun to feel like she was being scolded for doing something wrong.

“How long did it take you to meet up with her?” Felix demanded, his eyes flashing like steel. “How long were travelling alone?”

Annette felt herself withering under his gaze. Her silence said volumes.

“As I thought,” he said, folding his arms again and staring down his nose at her. “Do you have _any_ idea how worried I—we were?”

“I…” Annette began. She dropped her gaze to the floor, trying to hide the way her cheeks were going red. “I just wanted to see everyone again. I didn’t mean to make anyone worry about me. I can take care of myself, you know.”

She heard Felix sigh above her, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I know,” he said gruffly. He reached out and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Just…don’t do something like that again. You can rely on the rest of us now.”

“Thanks, Felix,” she said, raising her eyes and fixing him with her most menacing glare. “You should follow your own advice, you know. You don’t have to fight like a lone wolf all the time.”

“I work better alone,” he muttered. Felix shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak. He was avoiding her eyes. “Always have.”

Annette felt her gaze soften and her heart sink. Felix had always been like this, avoiding getting close to anyone, even holding Ingrid and Sylvain at arm’s length more often than not. Despite how much time they’d spent together at the Academy, whether fighting or studying, Annette had tried not to let herself believe she really understood him the way his friends did. Even then, she knew her crush was one-sided, and she knew he’d been working with her only on the Professor’s orders, and not because he’d actually wanted to do so. 

_But he did write to me,_ she reminded herself, staring at his face in the moonlight. He was still avoiding her gaze, but the fire in his own eyes seemed to have faded now. If anything, Annette thought he looked sad. _Surely that must mean something._

“I know,” she said instead, in a voice no louder than a whisper. “I’m sorry. Of course, you know how you fight best. I suppose I was just remembering how we used to work together so much. I miss that.”

“Annette…” Felix began.

“I suppose I should go now,” Annette said quickly, pulling her cloak closer around her shoulders. She brushed past him before he could say anything else. “I’m sorry to have kept you so long. Good night, Felix.” 

“Annette, wait—”

The doors to the Cathedral closed behind her as she disappeared into the clear night, leaving Felix alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Felix, always saying the wrong thing :) I don't have many comments to make about this one--it sets up the coming chapters mostly, so there isn't as much exciting action in it. I did enjoy writing their conversation in the Cathedral--they needed to get one initial conversation out of the way now that they are back. I think Felix would still be so awed by Annette's changes that he would find it hard to talk to her at first hehe 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! Thank you all so much for reading. So many lovely comments on the last chapter--I am so happy you liked that one! Thank you all so very much!
> 
> Love, Kami


	22. Confrontation with the Dead

True to his word, Gilbert had sent word to his allies amongst the Knights of Seiros and bid them return to Garreg Mach with all haste. Within a fortnight, the remaining ranking officers of the Church had returned to the ruined Monastery and had set about assisting with the repairs, bringing with them food supplies to augment the meager provisions that the Blue Lions had stretched to last as long as possible. Following the return of the Knights, nearby villagers had begun to venture back to the Monastery to verify for themselves that the rumors were true, that someone had returned to restore their freedom from the yoke of the Empire. Felix hadn’t thought it would happen so quickly, that the empty marketplace would have already have small shops re-opening for business. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

He had made sure to send a terse message to his father and confirm his safe arrival at Garreg Mach and Dimitri’s miraculous survival. He decided to leave out exactly how Dimitri had changed over these long years; in fact, Felix didn’t know if he could possibly put into words just how much the prince had transformed. He hadn’t tried to engage Dimitri in conversation since their initial return to the Monastery, realizing it wasn’t worth the effort since the boar prince was in not fit state to respond.

When word reached them only a week after their return that the Imperial army was approaching Garreg Mach, nobody was surprised. Professor Byleth had spent the previous four days holding regular war councils on the second floor of the Monastery where the room was larger and they could sit as equals around a long table, leaving the student-teacher power dynamic in the past. Their first order of business had been to prepare a strategy to defend the Monastery once the inevitable attack arrived at their doorstep. 

“We’ll make our stand here,” Professor Byleth announced as the Blue Lions gathered at the broken gates of Garreg Mach, gesturing with her free hand to the expanse of land just outside. There were a number of burnt-out huts and chunks of stone that had fallen from the walls five years ago. “I’d rather not fight within the walls if we can help it.”

Felix could see the Imperial army advancing on their position, not waiting to give the defenders a chance to move into position. “Professor, we must hurry,” he said, watching the enemy closely from beside her. “They’re heading our way as we speak!”

“Ingrid, you take to the skies and warn us if you see anything suspicious. Watch out for bowmen,” Professor Byleth was already shouting orders. She assessed situations as quickly as Felix had learned to do, and there was rarely any hesitation in her decisions. He supposed it had helped that they’d spent many days since their arrival discussing possible strategies in great detail so that they were prepared for this fight. “Sylvain, you take Annette down the left side, and Felix, can I trust you to take the right on your own?”

_This isn’t how this was supposed to go,_ Felix thought, glancing across the circle at Annette. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. _I was supposed to be on the left with Annette._

“Professor—” Felix began quickly, wrapping his hand around the hilt of his blade. “This isn’t—”

“Can you do it, or not?” Professor Byleth interrupted, her green eyes hard as jewels. Her expression brooked no argument. She waved Ashe and Gilbert forward to join Dimitri down the central path; the boar prince hadn’t bothered to wait for her to relay her orders to him. 

Felix watched Sylvain spur his horse toward the left after Annette who had already sprinted away, her brown cloak billowing out over her shoulders. Her orange hair bounced behind her like a flickering candle flame, bright in the glow of the setting sun. Sylvain looked as confused as Felix felt, but he hadn’t wasted time questioning his orders. This wasn’t the place for it; if the Professor had changed plans, they would need to discuss the reasoning later, when their lives weren’t in danger. Felix shifted his gaze back to the Professor’s and nodded curtly. 

“Leave it to me,” he grunted, turning on his heel and sprinting in the opposite direction. He tried not to let himself feel hurt that the plan had changed. He tried to shove those feelings into the box he used to rely on during battle, the same box that had seen less and less use since he first met Annette all those years ago. He couldn’t afford to feel anything other than the tide of battle; he could die if he didn’t push the pain away.

Felix darted past a broken hut and sidled along the wall, glancing around to see a squad of three soldiers ahead. Two of them held swords while the third held a bow with an arrow at the ready. They hadn’t noticed him yet, hiding in the shadows of the broken home, watching them and considering his options. Felix knew he could easily dispatch the two swordsmen, noticing how they held their swords too loosely and the way they stood too carelessly, whispering to each other and not watching for an opponent. The bowman, on the other hand, would be more of a challenge; he was watching Ingrid wheeling in the sky and waiting for an opportunity to shoot her down. 

_If I can take out the bowman from here,_ Felix thought quickly, _I’ll be able to handle those two with no problem. Ingrid will be safer, too. Glenn wouldn’t forgive me if I let her die._

But Felix had no bow to shoot the bowman with, and he was too far away to ambush him without being seen. No matter how he looked at the situation, the bowman had the advantage; he’d see Felix before he could get close enough to attack, and his friends would be able to defend him long enough to get a couple of shots off. Felix was good at dodging, but even he was vulnerable to bowshots, especially when he had to contend with other attacks at the same time. There was good chance he’d be hit, and he couldn’t risk it.

_I can’t hit him from here,_ Felix thought as frustration at his lack of a ranged weapon bubbled to the surface. He’d never taken the time to learn how to use a bow in battle, and he knew using a hunting bow wasn’t quite the same thing. _I can’t do anything from here._

The trio of soldiers ahead began to move toward the main path as Felix deliberated his next move. He knew he was spending too much time wondering what to do; he knew he needed to make a move on them. He couldn’t help but think that if Annette were there, she’d have been able to help by engaging one of them from range and giving Felix an opening in which to strike. He tried not to focus on how much this bothered him, to be left alone on the battlefield and forced to handle everything by himself when he _should_ have been with her.

“Fuck it all,” Felix swore ruthlessly under his breath, forcing the pain away. He sprinted toward the soldiers with his sword raised, a wild glint in his eyes. “I’ll just take them all on, odds be damned!”

Predictably, they heard him coming and turned to face him, the two swordsmen stepping in front of the bowman like a wall. Their armor was too small to give the archer the bulwark he needed for real safety, but Felix had taken a three-on-one, and they had recognized their advantage. With a wordless roar, Felix dashed across the grass and thrust his sword forward. It clanged loudly against his opponent’s blade, sparks flying as the metal scraped against each other. Drawing a hidden dagger from his sleeve, Felix fended off a counterattack from the other swordsman on his side, gritting his teeth as he disengaged a few paces back from them.

He was breathing heavily and watching the bowman warily as he nocked an arrow to the string and loosed it directly toward the place where he was standing. The sun was in Felix’s eyes, but he could see the arrow flying through the air, and he moved unthinkingly, raising his sword arm to block a pair of strokes from his opponents. He shoved his dagger into the one man’s thigh and he howled in pain, but the wound wasn’t deep enough to stop him from fighting. He stumbled forward with his sword out and caught Felix’s side with an awkward thrust. Pain shot through his body and Felix bit back a cry, ignoring the blood staining his jacket as he pushed his way past the two men towards the bowman.

As he drew closer, he could see the archer was a woman. She looked unafraid as he ran forward, sword held tightly in one hand and his bloody dagger in the other. Her friends were already following him, shouting at her to pull back out of the way. The woman didn’t look concerned; she held the bow taut and watched Felix zip towards her, her hand unwavering. 

_Wait for the shot,_ Felix thought, balancing lightly on his feet and preparing to spring. 

The woman let the arrow fly as Felix began to close the gap between them. It sang through the air as Felix lifted his own arm and threw his dagger. It arced through the air and glinted dangerously in the glow of the setting sun, the blood on it dripping red tears to the ground. Felix couldn’t hold back a shout of pain this time as the arrow pierced his shoulder and he stumbled forward as his arm fell to his side. He felt his grip slacken on his sword just as the dagger lodged itself into the woman’s chest. She slumped to the ground and dropped her bow, her eyes going dark in death.

The swordsmen behind Felix were shouting as she fell, and he could hear the pounding of their feet as they redoubled their efforts to reach him. He was vulnerable now, one arm weak from the arrow he’d taken. The wound didn’t feel deep—his armor was light, but effective—but it was uncomfortable to say the least. _I don’t need two arms to fight,_ Felix thought savagely, turning to block one attack awkwardly with his sword. 

“Felix! Move!” 

At the sound of Ingrid’s voice from high above, Felix rolled instinctively away from the two men. He saw Ingrid swoop down on her pegasus with a silver lance glowing in the sunset, her face fierce and alight with the thrill of battle. She wasted no time in thrusting the weapon through one man’s torso, pulling out roughly and stabbing him again for good measure. He made a strangled sound in his throat as he fell to the ground. Ingrid jerked on the reins of her pegasus so that it lifted higher into the air so that it was out of the range of the last man’s blade. He was cursing Ingrid—and Felix, for that matter—loudly, sweat shining on his bloody face. 

Felix was already moving as the other man fell, and slashed his sword across the last swordsman’s belly, cutting open his armor and biting the soft flesh beneath. Ingrid had circled above like a vulture and dove down with her lance poised to strike him through the back. This man fell like his comrade, his eyes rolling back in their sockets. 

Ingrid landed a few feet away from Felix, her white armor splattered with blood. “What is wrong with you?” she snapped angrily. “A three-on-one with one of your opponents being a bowman? You’re just _asking_ to get hurt, running in like that!”

“No choice,” Felix replied in a clipped voice, feeling his own anger rising in his chest. “No way for me to take down the bowman without getting closer.”

“What about your magic?” Ingrid demanded, still looking angry. 

Felix stared at her, dumbstruck. 

_Magic,_ he thought numbly. He’d forgotten about that, having not used it since leaving Garreg Mach five years ago. _Right._

Ingrid shook her head and lifted off the ground again. “Use all the tools at your disposal,” she called over her shoulder as her pegasus gained altitude. “Isn’t that what the Professor always used to say?”

She was gone before Felix could respond. He watched her soar away and cursed himself for a fool. Ingrid was right; he was smarter than this. But there was no time to stand and mull over it, so he took off at a dead run, the arrow still sticking out of his shoulder. He tried to pull it out but the haft snapped in his fingers, the head remaining lodged in his flesh. _I’ll have to wait until I can find Mercedes,_ he thought crossly as he paused by the body of the fallen archer and pulled his dagger out of her chest. _Magic…Goddess, what’s wrong with me?_

Catching sight of two more soldiers ahead, Felix pushed forward, ready to take them down. He had to push the feelings away, the hurt and the shame; they would kill him if he didn’t. A battlefield was no place for emotions; he’d known that since Glenn died. He was a machine in war; unfeeling and focused only on the task at hand. He needed to help take down the Imperial soldiers before they could overrun the ragged band of Blue Lions who had come back to a place that felt like a home. 

\---

Felix rejoined the main party after the sun had finally settled below the horizon, his arm completely numb with the pain radiating from his shoulder. He’d sustained several injuries, but none as deep as the cut to his side which was still bleeding profusely when he made it back to Mercedes. She took one look at him and beckoned him closer so she could get a better look at what she needed to heal. 

“Oh, Felix,” she said gently, her voice calming amidst the sounds of dying soldiers. “You must be in so much pain. Stay still and I’ll do what I can.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, sitting obediently on the ground and holding his jacket out of the way as Mercedes knelt beside him. She laid her hands against his skin and a warm sensation seemed to radiate from the tips of her fingers and flow through the wound, slowly knitting the skin back together.

The priestess was silent as she worked, neither speaking nor humming the way he knew Annette would have done. The thought was unsettling. 

“Say, Mercedes,” Felix said in a low voice. He glanced around to see if anyone was near, but nobody else seemed to be. He could hear Dimitri’s rising voice in the distance, but he didn’t care what the boar was doing. He didn’t want the responsibility of holding his leash. “Do you know why the Professor changed the plan for our defense?”

Mercedes sighed but kept a firm grip over his wound, her violet eyes twinkling slightly. “Yes,” she admitted. “Annie asked the Professor to change it last night.”

“Why?” Felix asked. His voice sounded petulant, like a child, and he hated it. His childhood had ended when Glenn died. He’d had to be strong ever since then, trying to live up to a brother his father had adored and a prince who’d taken Felix’s place as a second son in the Fraldarius household. He’d had to live through watching Ingrid tear herself apart with grief when his brother died, unable to comfort her and powerless to change what had happened. He hadn’t wanted to go through that kind of pain ever again, losing someone he loved more than anyone else in the world. He’d lost Glenn and it had changed everything in his life. 

_So why did Annette ask to change the plan?_ Felix wondered furiously. It wasn’t the same, but it felt like he’d lost her now, too. His friendship with Ingrid and Sylvain—hell, even his friendship with Dimitri—had never felt quite so fragile, like one wrong move might shatter it. They had hardly been back at Garreg Mach and he’d already managed to screw up their friendship again. He felt more like a child than ever, specifically one who had never made a friend before. Why was it so hard to like her and _not_ be an idiot about it? 

“She did it because she thought you would prefer to fight alone,” Mercedes said gently, lifting her hands from his side up to his shoulder. Her eyes held a world of compassion in them and she smiled benevolently at him. “She didn’t want to burden you.”

“Burden me?” Felix repeated flatly. “Why would she think that?”

Mercedes smiled and shook her head ruefully. “You should ask her,” she chided. Her touch was gentle as she prodded his wounded shoulder with the tips of her fingers, encouraging the arrowhead to pop out from his flesh with her magic. Felix willed himself to remain very still and tried not to make a sound as the metal came cleanly out of his flesh.

“I will,” Felix muttered. 

\---

The Blue Lions gathered in the council room on the second floor the following morning after breakfast, groggy and exhausted from the battle to defend Garreg Mach from the Imperial soldiers. Felix yawned widely; despite sleeping poorly the night before, he’d still woken before dawn to visit the training grounds, hoping desperately that he’d feel better after going through the familiar motions. 

It hadn’t worked.

Felix slouched in a chair beside Sylvain much like he had during their school days except this time he could see Annette’s face because everyone was sitting around a long table. She sat closer to the end nearest to Professor Byleth and pretended not to look at her father sitting across from Mercedes. She shot him a quizzical look but turned her eyes away as soon as she realized that he’d noticed. Her face was a pleasant shade of pink.

Sylvain offered him a pitying look as he sat down. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what happened yesterday…”

“It’s fine,” Felix grumbled, trying not to sound petulant and failing. “I do.”

His friend blinked in surprise and shifted in his seat. “Oh. Well…I did my best, in your place,” Sylvain mumbled. 

“Thanks,” Felix replied with another grumble. He couldn’t resist the urge to fold his arms across his chest. “I know you did. I appreciate it.”

“Are you…feeling all right?” Sylvain asked, his eyebrows creeping dangerously close to his hairline. He raised a hand and set it against Felix’s forehead. “You don’t _feel_ like you have a fever.”

“I don’t,” Felix snapped, swatting Sylvain’s hand away irritably. “Get your hand off of me.”

“Just checking,” Sylvain said quickly. “You’re not usually this…depressed.”

“I’m fine,” Felix repeated in a stony voice. 

Sylvain looked like he wanted to pry more, but luck was with Felix and Professor Byleth called the meeting to order just as Ashe slipped into the room and fell into a chair next to Ingrid. The Professor had dark circles under her eyes and looked very much like she hadn’t slept much the night before either, but she spoke clearly as she provided a mission debrief to the assembled group. “We lost many valuable knights,” she said in a sombre voice. “Luckily, you all pulled through safely, and without any serious injuries.”

“I’m so glad we were successful,” Mercedes said brightly, leaning over the edge of the table toward the Professor. “Do you suppose the Empire will try again?”

“They might,” Professor Byleth replied with a shrug. “It’s hard to say. We fended off a moderately strong force, so they may think twice now before sending another one.”

“We should prepare for the worst,” Ingrid said firmly, bringing her fist down on the table with enough force to shake it. “We should fortify our position here.”

“We don’t have the resources for that right now,” Felix interrupted before Ingrid could continue. “We should take the battle to them before they can pen us in here with a larger force.”

“The Empire will likely send a second and third wave of attacks here,” Gilbert said calmly, though the lines of his face seemed to deepen as he spoke. “We’ll have our hands full just with defending this place, never mind being able to pursue the Empire ourselves.”

“It’s a miracle we survived this attack,” Sylvain muttered. “We have so few soldiers and resources as it is.”

“We need reinforcements,” Professor Byleth said simply. “We can’t afford to attack the Empire directly without more soldiers but nor can we adequately defend this place with our current forces. Is there anyone who can provide support to our cause?”

The room was silent for several minutes as the assembled men and women wracked their brains for anyone who might be able to help their cause. _Most people who have the resources to help us are either fighting in the war or have sided with the Empire,_ Felix thought sourly, glaring at a scratch on the tabletop in a poor attempt at avoiding the obvious conclusion this conversation was heading toward. 

“Our only real option is seeking assistance from Lord Rodrigue,” Ingrid finally said. “He’s the only person who would be able to help, in the current circumstances. The Alliance is too fractured to rely on at the moment.”

She glanced apologetically at Felix. He continued to glare at the tabletop, refusing to meet Ingrid’s eyes. He could see the sense—the logic, even—in seeking support from his father, but Felix’s stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot at the prospect of asking Lord Rodrigue for help, given their strained relationship. He hated asking anyone for help, least of all his father. 

_My old man will be thrilled to help,_ he thought resentfully, _knowing that Dimitri is alive and could be used to take back Fhirdiad._

“Then we should contact him right away,” Annette murmured, staring at her hands. Felix glanced down the table at her, a movement that was almost involuntary, drawn entirely by the sound of her voice. 

“Lord Rodrigue is in a difficult position as well,” Gilbert mused aloud. He didn’t look at Annette, almost as if she hadn’t spoken at all. It made Felix irrationally angry to see how she didn’t even react, already knowing that he wouldn’t acknowledge her. “He’s been holding off Cornelia on the frontlines of the Faerghus Dukedom, as the Empire has called it.”

“We have no choice but to ask,” Professor Byleth said calmly. “We need whatever support he can offer.”

“There are probably some troops amongst the soldiers that Lord Fraldarius commands that would be willing to join our cause,” Sylvain said. “It’s worth a shot.”

“So…Lord Rodrigue is alive,” Dimitri mused softly. He leaned against the wall behind the Professor’s chair in the shadows of the large room, and had seemed wholly uninterested in the conversation. Felix hadn’t thought he’d even been listening. 

“We met five years ago,” Professor Byleth said slowly, glancing at the prince. Dimitri only nodded.

“I wonder what my old man will say when he sees you now,” Felix laughed bitterly. “That alone will be worth the trip back home.”

Dimitri glared at him, but Felix didn’t have the energy to care. He’d long since pushed away any feelings for Dimitri outside of bitter antipathy. 

“I’ve already sent word of His Highness’ survival to Lord Rodrigue,” Gilbert continued stoically. “But we should send another in case anything happens to us before we can reach him.”

“We need the Kingdom capital in order to make a stand against the Empire with any hope of winning,” Sylvain said quickly, surveying the room with sharp eyes. “With Faerghus back under our control, we won’t need to worry about supplies.”

“A sound plan,” Professor Byleth agreed. She looked over her shoulder at the place where Dimitri was still reclined against the wall. “Do you agree?”

Felix could see Dimitri’s answer in his face before he spoke. It wasn’t entirely surprising, not to Felix who’d known the prince for years like an adopted brother. He could read Dimitri like an open book, the same way he could read Sylvain or Ingrid. He buried his face in one hand, bracing himself for the inevitable.

“We will take Enbarr,” Dimitri said loudly, pronouncing each syllable with firm emphasis. “There, I will kill _her_ and finally assuage all those who have died by her hand.”

A heavy silence followed the prince’s words. Ingrid glanced across the table at Sylvain and Felix, mild panic evident in her bright green eyes. Ashe exchanged a worried look with Mercedes and even Gilbert sucked in a deep breath at this pronouncement. Only Professor Byleth did not react; she sat calmly in her seat with her green eyes turned to watch Dimitri closely. Felix thought she was gauging an appropriate response, though for the life of him, he couldn’t think of what that might be. For his part, Dimitri did not seem concerned that no one immediately spoke in support of his ridiculous announcement, and Felix wondered if he cared much about anything other than Edelgard at all.

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Annette broke the silence awkwardly, her sweet voice tinged with fear. “Your people need our help right now. We can’t just leave them under the yoke of the Empire.”

“Annette is right,” Ingrid concurred, her own voice shaky as she held Dimitri’s one-eyed gaze. “Your Highness, the citizens of Fhirdiad—and all the Kingdom—have long awaited your return.”

“Nothing matters except relieving that woman of her head,” Dimitri growled in a voice so dripping with hate that even Felix was taken aback. 

“Defeating the Empire would put an end to the war,” Ashe began quietly, his voice almost too low to be properly heard.

“We also need to search for Lady Rhea,” Mercedes added. She was the only person to sound sure of herself in the face of Dimitri’s plan. “If she is being held in Enbarr, I agree that we should make haste there.”

“Professor,” Gilbert said, lacing his hands together behind his back. “What say you?”

“This is foolishness,” Felix spat before she could reply. He glared across the room at Dimitri, realizing belatedly that he had stood and slammed his open palms onto the table. “Even with my father’s soldiers, storming Enbarr in our current state is akin to suicide. We’d be throwing our lives away!”

“Then so be it,” Dimitri snarled viciously, leaning forward to pin Felix with a cold stare. “You go and liberate Fhirdiad if that’s what you want. I will go to Enbarr, regardless of what you lot decide.”

“Haven’t you been listening, boar?” Felix snapped, stepping around the table to stand in front of Dimitri. He was taller, but Felix had never been one to let something like height intimidate him. “Faerghus wants _you,_ though for the life of me, I can’t see why. You’re a disgrace to the Kingdom and the Blaiddyd family.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Dimitri growled deep in his throat, his face twisted with hate. Felix could feel the blood flowing through him, filling him with adrenaline and a desire to fight the boar on the battlefield, to show him exactly how he felt. Everyone was staring at them in disbelief. Ingrid was so pale that Felix thought she might faint and looked like she was only upright because Ashe had laid a steadying hand against her back. 

“So be it,” Dimitri finally replied, his voice so low that even Felix had to strain to hear it. He looked like he would have stabbed his lance right through Felix’s chest if he’d had it in hand. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me; I have a duty to the dead that I must see through.”

“The dead don’t give a fuck about you,” Felix retorted savagely, turning to storm out of the room. “My brother died for you and your family. The _least_ you can do is use his sacrifice to save the kingdom he loved.”

Slamming the door behind him, Felix left the council room in a stunned silence.

\---

He went where he always did when he needed to relieve stress. 

Felix swung his blade with more force than was necessary, cutting open several training dummies so that their straw fell uselessly onto the ground. It wasn’t exactly satisfying to fight against dummies; he would have preferred his blade to bite flesh, and to watch the blood of his victim pool on the ground by his feet. He’d prefer to see a heap of warm corpses piling beside him, not these poor imitations of men that he was forced to hone his blade against. The thought scared him; it was too close to what Dimitri was now. One wrong move, and Felix could as easily become a boar himself.

He had too many emotions swirling inside, and Felix thought he might burst with the weight of them. He felt anger and resentment toward Dimitri’s insistence on throwing what was left of his life away, hurt and shame that Annette had seen fit to change the plan at the last minute, despair that he was always too inadequate for his father, and so stupid that he’d needed Ingrid to remind him that he could use magic. The box in which he’d locked away all his feelings for so long had long since broken, and he simply didn’t know how to handle them like this. 

No one came to disturb him, although Felix was not so foolish to believe that they didn’t know where he was; he was as predictable as the moon, Ingrid had once told him, moving in the same pattern day after day. The only comfort Felix had was the knowledge that he was right. 

_Glenn would never have wanted the boar to throw his life away like this,_ he thought grimly, his arm going slack by his side. He glared at the broken training dummy as if it had insulted him. _Glenn was full of life. He’d hate to see what Dimitri’s become._

Night had fallen hours ago; he’d spent the whole day in training grounds like a child, unable to handle his emotions like an adult and go about his business like a man. He hated feeling weak. 

Sheathing his sword, Felix finally gave into his hunger and wandered toward the dining hall, hands shoved into his pockets as he walked. He wondered if things would be different if Glenn were around, and he’d still had an older brother to keep him in line. Would Glenn have been a good influence on Dimitri, keeping him from becoming the animal that he was now? 

Although the dining hall itself was blessedly empty, there was a light on in the kitchen. More alert now, he crept closer to the door into the back room where the pantry was, stepping lightly across the wooden floor so as to not announce his presence. Felix wasn’t particularly interested in a conversation with whoever was back there. He stood in the shadows by the door which was slightly ajar and put his ear close to the crack.

_Oh, you little kittens make me so smitten!  
You just need a little bit of chicken,  
What good fortune  
That I found you in the kitchen!_

Felix froze at the sound of Annette’s clear voice echoing through the crack in the door and felt his heart begin to beat harder in his chest. It suddenly occurred to him that she’d witnessed his argument in the council room and how he stormed out like a child. The thought made his stomach drop. He wondered what she had thought of him, and whether she was feeling justified in changing the defense plan in the wake of his behaviour. _Who’d want to fight alongside someone who can’t even keep their temper in a war council?_ Felix berated himself inwardly, shifting his weight so that the floorboards creaked ominously beneath him. The singing stopped abruptly, and Felix had a sinking feeling he knew what was about to happen. 

“Who’s there?” Annette called. He could hear clothes rustling as she stood and the sound of her footsteps as she moved quickly to the door and pulled it open. Felix had already turned to flee the room, but he’d reacted too slowly after hearing her voice. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise as she caught sight of his half-turned back. “Felix? What are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, taking another step away from her. “I was just leaving.”

“Are you hungry?” Annette asked tentatively. Her fingers brushed the fabric of his sleeve as she reached to stop him. “You haven’t eaten all day. There’s leftovers here, if you want them.”

Felix opened his mouth to refuse, but his stomach growled so loudly and violently that he wished that floor would open beneath his feet and Nemesis would pull him down into hell just so that he wouldn’t have to live with the embarrassment. He heard Annette giggle behind him, and she took another step forward until her hand closed around his wrist and gently tugged him back. “Come on,” she said. “You need to eat.”

The power of speech seemed to have abandoned him. In fact, Felix felt as though he was a marionette, unable to command his feet to take him away or to pull his wrist out of her gentle grip. He felt like a captive, forced to follow her into the bright kitchen without any means of escape. He followed her silently into the room and the lingering smell of roast chicken assaulted his nostrils. His stomach growled again as Annette pulled him through the room and pushed him into a chair that she’d obviously just abandoned. 

The sound of mewling caught his attention. In the corner beside his chair lay a familiar grey and white cat with four little kittens laying against her. They lay on a makeshift bed of old towels that Felix recognized from his Academy days working kitchen duty. The mother looked up at him and lazily blinked her green eyes. Felix stared back at her.

“Kittens,” he said dumbly. 

Annette nodded as she piled a plate with leftover pieces of roast chicken, potatoes, and some spindly little carrots that they had purchased from a wandering vendor several days earlier. “Yes,” she said happily as she poked through the dry goods pantry to see if there was anything else that she could add to his plate. “You remember Luna, don’t you? I found her here the other day with kittens. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“I suppose so,” Felix replied lamely. He reached down to let the mother cat sniff his fingers. “I’m surprised she lived this long in a place like this.”

“Cats are pretty hardy,” Annette said with a fond look at them. She looked so happy that Felix could feel the pent-up anger he’d been trying to unleash onto the training dummies beginning to truly dissipate. She handed him the plate of food and sighed. “Sorry, there’s not much until we can get some vegetables growing in the greenhouse again.”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Felix muttered. His stomach lurched ominously as he began to eat with gusto. Annette tried to hide a smile behind her hand. 

She crouched down beside the kittens and her orange hair fell beside her face, obscuring her expression from view. Felix ate in silence, his eyes sliding between her and the kittens. She was content to watch them, scratching the mother behind her ears occasionally and laughing softly when the cat nuzzled against her hand. He tried not to wonder what it would feel like for Annette’s fingers to run through his own hair. 

_Jealous of a cat,_ Felix thought with an inward groan. _I’m jealous of a cat. What is wrong with me?_

“Say, Annette,” Felix said quietly as he pushed aside the thought of feeling her hands in his hair. “Why did you ask the Professor to change the battle plan yesterday?”

She looked up at him, and he could see the sorrow in her blue eyes. “Because you told me you fight best alone,” she said simply. “I didn’t want to get in your way anymore.”

“You’ve never been in my way,” Felix said firmly. 

She sighed and dropped her gaze back down to the cats. “I just…after our conversation in the Cathedral…”

“Look, Annette,” Felix interrupted quickly. He leaned forward and sighed in frustration. “I’m not very good at…relying on others. I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to fight with you.” He paused, searching for the right words and feeling that everything he could say would be woefully inadequate. “It was a bit lonely…”

Annette lifted her head and he realized she’d been hurting just as much as he had. She managed a weak smile and folded her hands in her lap, leaning comfortably against the cabinets. “Maybe next time,” she said softly. “We can fight together, like old times.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Annette stroked the cats gently, humming an old kingdom lullaby that Felix couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard. He set the empty plate into the sink and began to scrub it clean, allowing himself to clear his mind and listen only to the sound of Annette’s sweet voice. He felt oddly at home in the kitchen with her, washing his dishes and glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She was a soothing presence, gently tempering the pain and anger Felix had been holding on to for so long. He didn’t want to think about what life would be like without her.

“You’re not going to sing again?” he asked hesitantly. He reached to set the clean plate back into the cabinets above the sink and deliberately kept his gaze away from where she sat. 

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied with her back still turned to him.

“Maybe just this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this chapter a little earlier than usual because I had a rough day today at work, and I thought this might cheer me up :) Yay for heartwarming Felix/Annette fluff! I have a few things planned before we loop Lord Rodrigue back in, but we're well on the way now, so stay tuned for more! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoy this update :)
> 
> Love, Kami


	23. Breaking the Walls

Gilbert had sent a message to Lord Rodrigue by pegasus courier, knowing it would be the fastest way to communicate a request for reinforcements. After the disaster of a war council where Felix and Dimitri had nearly descended into fisticuffs over the decision to retake Fhirdiad or storm Enbarr, Professor Byleth had delayed their next meeting until they received a reply. Annette was grateful for this not only because it gave her more time to spend assisting with the repairs to the Monastery, but also because it gave her more time to sit with Felix and take care of the kittens they’d somehow adopted. 

He was surprisingly gentle with the kittens, ensuring they always had a bowl of fresh water and feeding them with whatever food they had on hand. He’d even taken to switching chores with whoever happened to be on kitchen duty, claiming he “didn’t trust anyone else to take care of them properly” and insisting that if it wasn’t Annette or himself, then the kittens would probably starve. Annette didn’t hold the same skepticism of their comrades, but she made no complaint and instead decided to simply enjoy the time they had together. 

Felix didn’t usually ask her to help with preparing the food anyway. “You’ll find a way to set the place on fire,” he told her every time she insisted on helping. He folded his arms and looked resolute. “You mind the kittens, and I’ll mind the food.”

So, each morning she sat beside the litter and dangled a piece of green yarn above them that Mercedes had given her. They pawed at it excitedly, gently tugging it out of her fingers and meowing sweetly for her to dangle it again. It felt remarkably normal to sit in the kitchen playing with the kittens while Felix worked, and Annette had to try very hard not to imagine what a life with him would be like, knowing that such a fantasy wouldn’t ever become her reality. 

“Say, Felix,” Annette said one morning, pulling her orange capelet over her shoulders to stave on a chill. She held the piece of yarn loosely in her fingers while the kittens swatted at it madly. “Isn’t your birthday coming up soon?”

Felix hesitated in his rhythmic chopping at the counter. “Yes,” he replied carefully a moment later, resuming his work. He was making apple porridge for breakfast since Professor Byleth had managed to procure some dried fruits from a vendor in the marketplace the day before. “What about it?”

“I thought we should do something to celebrate,” Annette replied, watching him closely. “I figured it might be nice to lighten the mood around here.”

“I’d rather not,” he said shortly. The chopping continued more forcefully.

Annette sighed, not terribly surprised at this response. “That’s too bad,” she said, turning her eyes back down the kittens and pulling the yarn across the floor for them to chase. “I thought you might appreciate some time with friends outside of the war council and the repairs to Garreg Mach.”

“I’m not much for celebrations,” he mumbled, setting the knife aside and lighting the stove to begin heating the porridge. “I’m not fun to be around.”

“I think you’re fun,” Annette grumbled, before clapping a hand over her own mouth. She hadn’t meant to say something like that.

Felix glanced at her in surprise as he poured the dried oats into the pot. “You’re the only one, then,” he said. “Even Sylvain complains that I’m too uptight for parties. I haven’t celebrated my own birthday in years anyway.”

“Well…I suppose if you really don’t want to celebrate, we won’t plan anything,” Annette said quietly, trying not to sound disappointed.

The room was silent while Felix stirred the porridge methodically, sprinkling cinnamon into the mixture and adding the apples after it had been thoroughly blended. Annette moodily dangled the yarn above the kittens again, wondering why she didn’t think more before she spoke. Felix would probably think she was weird for wanting to celebrate his birthday. It wasn’t like she knew him as well as Ingrid or Sylvain did; they’d been friends since they were children. It’d be normal for Ingrid to suggest a birthday party. _Why did I think he’d agree?_ Annette thought morosely, absently reaching to stroke one of the kittens. _Of course he doesn’t like parties. He didn’t even want to attend the winter ball during our Academy year!_

“You know…I suppose it wouldn’t be _bad_ if you…” Felix mumbled into the porridge. “…wanted to have tea to celebrate. Nothing fancy,” he added hurriedly, bending so far over the pot that Annette could barely see his face through the steam. “Not a big party or anything. But if you really think it would cheer people up…”

Annette stared at him and tried to gauge if he really meant what he was saying. “Do you really mean it?” she asked, trying to keep the excitement in her voice under control. “We could just do a little tea party here in the dining hall—”

The door to the kitchen banged open just then and Ingrid burst in, her short hair sticking out at odd angles from the wind outside. She glanced between them, her green eyes lingering on Felix’s hand over the pot on the stove. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But we’ve just received a reply from Lord Rodrigue.”

Felix’s whole body seemed to go rigid at the mention of his father. Annette could see his fingers tighten around the wooden spoon until the knuckles went white. 

“What did he say?” Felix asked through gritted teeth. His easygoing nature from only moments before seemed to have evaporated in an instant. 

Ingrid shrugged, already turning to leave. “We don’t know yet. Professor Byleth has called an immediate meeting to discuss it.” She paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “Do try not to assault Dimitri this time, won’t you?”

Felix growled something that Annette pretended she didn’t hear while Ingrid shot him a withering stare and stalked out of the room without another word. The illusion of an idyllic morning of blessedly normal domesticity was shattered as soon as Ingrid entered the room and reminded them both that there was a war going on and that they couldn’t continue this silly charade any longer. It made Annette’s heart sink to remember that the real world was rarely so pleasant. 

They left the kitchen together, cloaks fasted against the cold winter air and walking briskly through the grounds. Felix didn’t speak as they made their way to the second floor of the Monastery, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he bumped right into Gilbert as he rounded a corner and Annette nearly walked right into Felix because of it. She peered around him and felt her own face go pale as she met her father’s cold stare head on.

“Felix,” Gilbert acknowledged in his deep rumbling voice. It was so familiar that Annette felt her heart constrict in her chest. He looked at Annette then, and she thought that he was actually, truly seeing her this time, for the first time in what felt like forever. “Annette.”

Felix seemed to scowl more deeply when Gilbert spoke her name, and he adjusted his position so that she was mostly blocked from view again. “Oh, so you _do_ know her name,” he sneered. “So very kind of you to remind us. We thought you’d forgotten it.”

Gilbert held Felix’s gaze and snorted derisively. “Of course I remember my own daughter’s name.”

“Funny, you don’t treat her much like a daughter,” Felix snapped, his voice rising dangerously. Annette was so shocked to hear the venom in his tone that she stared at him with her mouth hanging open. “You’re as bad as my old man. You don’t give a shit about your own family.”

“You know nothing, boy,” Gilbert retorted in a low voice. He sounded closed to tears. “Nothing.”

“I know you’ve abandoned your wife and daughter for nearly a decade,” Felix growled, taking Annette’s hand and pulling her down the hall with him. “Frankly, that’s all I need to know.”

“Father…” Annette murmured as she stumbled past him. She felt Felix squeeze her hand reassuringly. His cheeks were spotted red with anger.

Everyone else had already gathered in the council room when Felix practically dragged her inside and propelled her into a chair between himself and Sylvain. The redhead gave Felix an inquiring glance that melted into a knowing look of comprehension when Gilbert entered the room moments later looking thunderous. Sylvain gave Annette’s shoulder a pat and whispered something to Felix over her head that she couldn’t make out. It didn’t matter anyway; her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that Annette didn’t think she’d be able to hear much of the meeting if she couldn’t get her breathing under control. 

Professor Byleth cleared her throat meaningfully and glanced around at the assembled group, her green eyes thoughtful. “It seems we’re all here now,” she said slowly, clearly deciding not to draw further attention to the obvious tension in the room. “Lord Rodrigue has replied to our request for aid.”

“What did he say?” Ashe asked after an awkward moment of silence. “Is he going to help?”

“He would like to provide us with reinforcements, but he cannot leave the frontlines against Cornelia’s army long enough to do so,” Professor Byleth said, scanning the parchment in her hand. She didn’t sound particularly distressed despite the murmurs of dismay that arose from the others in the room. “If we meet him in Ailell, he will be able to deliver our reinforcements and some supplies to us there.”

“The Valley of Torment?” Ingrid said with a note of fear. “That is due south of Fraldarius territory, and the journey there will not be as far as going straight to Lord Rodrigue but…”

“Ailell is a cursed place, is it not?” Mercedes said serenely, not sounding particularly worried. “I’ve heard that people do not go there.”

“That’s just an old wives’ tale,” Sylvain said in an entirely unconvincing voice. 

“It’s the perfect place,” Dimitri muttered from his place against the wall. “Our enemies will never know we’re there.”

“Once my old man delivers his soldiers to us, our war against the Empire can finally begin,” Felix growled, his amber eyes narrowed at Dimitri. “Let’s make this quick.”

Dimitri glared at Felix from across the room. “Yes,” he agreed in a raspy voice. “Father, Stepmother, Glenn, and Dedue…they will be pleased.”

Felix opened his mouth to retort but Ingrid shot him a warning look and shook her head. He sank back against his chair looking sullen, crossing his arms over his chest and staring moodily at the table. Nervously, Annette reached out and patted his knee under the table in a silent show of solidarity, trying to comprehend how difficult it must be for him to ask his father for help in an assault on Enbarr with which he didn’t agree. Felix glanced at her, his eyes softening just a little. 

“We should plan to carry out this rendezvous quickly,” Gilbert rumbled. “Before anyone catches wind of our plan. Professor, I suggest we leave here by the twenty-fourth day of Pegasus Moon.”

She nodded curtly. “That will give us enough time to prepare. We’ll only take this group and a handful of soldiers to ensure we can move with speed.”

The council seemed to drag on for hours as Professor Byleth hammered out the finer details of their mission, and debated the most efficient route to Ailell with Ingrid and Felix. Annette sat silently in her seat, stewing over the short yet emotional exchange between Felix and her father. He had been so defensive of her, more than willing to call her father out on his absenteeism and pull her away before the situation could escalate further. It hurt to hear him speak so to her father, but a small part of Annette was pleased to know that Felix truly cared. He hadn’t forgotten how she’d cried so many times during school over her father, and he’d noticed how nothing had changed since they returned to Garreg Mach. 

_He didn’t have to say anything,_ Annette thought, staring blankly into her lap. _But he did anyway. He really cared._

She felt someone tapping her shoulder. Sylvain flashed her a faint smile and offered his hand. “Time to go,” he said gently, gesturing to the room around them. People were beginning to leave, pausing only to speak to the Professor as they passed, Felix among them. “We’ll need to prepare to head to Ailell soon. You ready to go?”

Annette nodded and accepted Sylvain’s hand graciously. “Thank you,” she murmured, rising from her seat and allowing Sylvain to snake his arm around her and lead her to the door. His presence was not as comforting as Felix’s was, but she was grateful for it, nonetheless.

Gilbert had remained seated, chin resting on his hands. As she passed, he looked over his shoulder, blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the council chamber. “A moment, if you please, Annette,” he murmured. 

She felt Sylvain’s grip around her shoulders tighten and knew that he was exchanging a pointed look with Felix who was standing only a few feet away with the Professor. _They’re trying to protect me from getting hurt,_ she realized. _But…it’s too late for that. I’ve already been hurt by him. I’m not afraid of it._

“Of course, Father,” she replied softly, shrugging out of Sylvain’s grip and moving to stand by his chair. 

Sylvain looked concerned but nodded silently and left the room. Professor Byleth was forcibly pulling Felix out of the room too, speaking still in a low voice about the mission to Ailell despite how his amber eyes were fixed on Annette. She smiled weakly at him, and nodded slightly as if to say _Don’t worry, I’ll be okay_ and hoping that the sentiment reached him. Felix didn’t look convinced, but he couldn’t resist the Professor’s grip on him. The last she saw of him was the swing of his warrior’s tail and the unfeigned concern in his amber eyes.

Then the door shut, and Annette was alone for the first time in years with her father.

She sat down in the Professor’s vacated chair, the corner of the table providing a sharp edge to separate them. She had agreed to stay and speak to him, but Annette didn’t feel generous enough to sit directly beside him in a show of intimacy. He’d abandoned her and her mother, as Felix had pointed out only a few hours earlier. Her heart ached to treat him like a real father again, but she recognized that right now, that wasn’t possible. He needed to earn that.

“Annette…” he murmured, not looking at her. 

_Like usual,_ she thought bitterly. 

“Why do you treat me like a stranger?” Annette asked aloud, trying to keep her voice steady. “Why do you avoid me, pretending that I don’t exist?”

“I have no right to face you or your mother,” Gilbert said in a voice as harsh as stone. It was the same thing he’d said five years ago, almost word for word.

Annette felt anger burning in her chest. “This has nothing to do with rights,” she said severely. “I’m your daughter. We should be a family.”

“I’m only a fool who abandoned my family,” Gilbert laughed bitterly. “As that Fraldarius boy so kindly reminded me.”

“Do you really think it was foolish to abandon us?” Annette asked in a tight voice, the anger still flaring in her chest. She laced her fingers together in her lap and held her hands tightly to keep them still.

Gilbert did not respond immediately. He appeared to be pondering the question, weighing his response to it. Annette felt her anger rising again. _Why doesn’t he say anything?_ she thought, fighting for control of her emotions. _It’s not a hard question, just a yes or no._

“I do,” Gilbert finally said, lifting his blue eyes to hers. She could see the pain in them, but she didn’t feel any pity. “Of course I do.”

“Then apologize,” she ordered savagely, the words flying like daggers. “I’m fine, but Mother deserves as much. She’s been waiting for you all this time, living like a widow under my uncle’s roof.”

Gilbert dropped his head, unable to hold her gaze any longer. “I’m sorry, Annette.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to!” she shouted, standing up suddenly from her seat. The anger was spilling out of her now in waves of increasing intensity. “You don’t get it, do you? Apologize to Mother!”

He only shook his head, and she realized there were tears snaking down his wrinkled face. “I can’t do that, Annette,” he rumbled through a hiccup. “I know you don’t understand…”

“Then tell me,” she demanded, stamping her foot uselessly on the stone floor like a child. “Make me understand. I’ve been searching for you all this time to bring you home. Tell me why you can’t.”

Instead of answering, Gilbert reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, wooden doll and placed it on the table between them. It had little wisps of orange yarn glued to the head that ended in little curls. Its face had two eyes that didn’t quite match in size, as if his hand hadn’t been steady enough to carve them properly, and a mouth that she supposed was meant to be a smile, but which looked more like a grimace. Annette could feel tears prickling in the corners of her own eyes now, and brushed them away angrily. 

“I carved this on a whim,” Gilbert whispered, not answering her questions. “I remembered how happy you were to receive these little dolls…and I was struck with the urge to do so again.”

The Annette-doll was adorable. Her heart broke as she picked it up from the table, turning it over in her hands and feeling the familiar sense of joy that had always accompanied the other dolls he’d given her as a child. Annette wanted to be happy to hold it; she wanted to be a little girl again playing with the dolls her father made. She wanted the war to be over and she wanted to be a family again. 

_I want things to go back to the way they were,_ Annette thought sadly, clutching the doll tightly in her hands and trying not to cry. _But they can never be that way again. I can’t turn back time._

“It’s too late for this, Father,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “I’m not a child anymore. This doll doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

“Annette…” he murmured, tears still silently running down his own cheeks. He looked older than ever, like a man who had lived through eons rather than decades. “I’m sorry…I don’t know what makes you happy anymore.”

_Mercedes does,_ Annette thought as her heart broke. _Felix does. My songs do, and so does Mother._

“I was so lonely when you left us,” she sobbed, holding the doll against her chest. Her body was wracked with violent shakes as she cried, but Annette couldn’t stop. “I didn’t know where you were. Mother and I could only weep and wonder. I would look at the dolls you made for me and just cry.”

Gilbert had never been good with emotions, Annette recalled through her sorrow. He sobbed too, unable (or perhaps unwilling) to reach out an arm to hug her and comfort her. He couldn’t (or wouldn’t) whisper into her hair that everything would be all right, that they would become a family again. They sat together at the table crying with their own pain, unable to stop the flow of tears. 

Her father was the first to collect himself and leave the room, abandoning her to sob on the table with the Annette-doll still clutched in her hands. 

\---

“Here,” Mercedes said softly, pressing a warm cup of tea into Annette’s shaky hands. “Drink this, Annie. You’ll feel better.”

Annette sat bundled in her own warm blankets and stared the Annette-doll sitting propped up on her desk across the room. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were rimmed red and her body was still quivering with the aftereffects of emotion. Mercedes smiled at her encouragingly from the little table she’d pushed closer to Annette’s bedside while Felix leaned against the wall by the door with a look of concern written across his handsome face. He had hardly let Annette out of his sight since he re-entered the council room after Gilbert left.

“Thank you,” Annette said in a faint voice. She lifted the delicate cup to her lips and sipped it gingerly. 

“No need to thank me,” Mercedes said gently, glancing at the swordsman proudly. “It was Felix who brought you back. I only made tea.”

“Thank you both,” Annette corrected herself. She looked at Felix apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me cry again.”

He snorted in a most ungentlemanly way. “Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Felix is right,” Mercedes agreed solemnly, stirring sugar into her own cup. “Just breathe, Annie. Things will work out, don’t worry.”

Annette sighed and looked back at the doll. Her father had never made a doll of her before; they’d always been of fictional design, often based on Annette’s own vivid imagination. She wondered what it meant that he’d made one of her this time and pushed the thought away when she felt new tears beginning to well in her eyes. Mercedes patted her back soothingly and held her close, whispering words of comfort into her ear. She smelled like vanilla and sugar from the cookies she’d been preparing before Felix abruptly wrenched her away to Annette’s bedroom. It was comforting to be in the circle of Mercedes’ arms and know that she had the best friend in the world to support her.

_I have Felix too,_ Annette thought, smiling weakly over Mercedes’ shoulder at him. _He waited for me. He always waits for me._

Felix didn’t return the smile, looking instead like he was more than ready to march off and challenge Gilbert to single combat over the whole situation. Annette was learning to read him again, realizing how he cared more deeply for his friends than he preferred to let on. She suspected it was why he fought so hard against Dimitri’s wish to storm Enbarr; he cared too much about his home and his friends to want to pursue a war in the Empire that they had no hope yet of winning. 

Felix sighed and dug into his jacket pocket, retrieving a small white cloth. He strode across the room in two steps and held it out to Annette. “Take it,” he said gruffly. “You can keep it, if you like.”

The handkerchief smelled just like he did. Annette drank it in through her nose, finding comfort in his earthy scent of pine and cloves. She ran her thumbs over the Crest of Fraldarius, remembering the last time she’d used this to dry her tears. “I can’t take this,” she protested quietly as Mercedes drew back and sipped her tea. 

“Yes, you can. Just keep it,” Felix shrugged and glanced at Mercedes. “I should probably be going. You can take care of her, right?”

“Certainly,” Mercedes agreed, standing to see him out. “Thank you for bringing her back here. That was very kind of you.”

Felix looked back at Annette, his amber eyes blazing with sincerity. “I would never abandon someone in need,” he said again, the same refrain he’d spoken to her so many times before. “Take it easy until you feel better. I’ll take care of the kittens.”

He shut the door softly behind him and the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance. Annette rubbed her fingers across the little scrap of fabric, allowing herself to continue to remember the times she had used this to dry her tears. Despite her sorrow, Annette felt her lips curving upwards into a smile. Felix probably didn’t realize how much this little handkerchief meant to her. He would probably never know how much she treasured it and the memories it held. They weren’t all sad, after all; they were memories of times she’d spent with Felix as he awkwardly tried to comfort her, sometimes failing miserably, but trying, nonetheless. 

“I love him,” she whispered into the handkerchief as new tears threatened to fall. “Oh, Mercie…I love him so much.”

Mercedes was there again with her arms winding tightly around her younger sister. “I know, Annie,” she whispered into Annette’s hair. “I know you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Chapter 24 was originally this chapter, but I had to switch it for pacing. Therefore, these two chapters are a little shorter because they flowed a better this way :) 
> 
> I decided to combine Annette & Gilbert's C + B supports together because it felt like it worked. Not to mention, the timeskip chapters are full of stuff that needs to happen, so it just worked. Hope you don't mind that! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter :) You are all very kind, and I couldn't stop smiling. I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> Love, Kami


	24. Hearts Awakened

It was nearly a week since the disaster of a war council that had left Annette in tears before things seemed to settle into a routine again. She didn’t hide away in her room like she used to back during her Academy days, instead opting to throw herself into the endless chores of running the Monastery. She had thrown herself into nurturing the greenhouse back to its former bounty, knowing it would reduce their army’s reliance on imported provisions considerably. Annette was so devoted to the work that Professor Byleth finally took her aside and nearly begged her to take a break from all the work before she fell over with exhaustion. 

Remembering her suggestion that they celebrate Felix’s birthday to lighten the mood around the Monastery, Annette agreed to take a day off from chores to spend some time preparing for it. So it was that Annette knocked on Mercedes’ door early in the morning on the eighteenth day of Pegasus Moon, just before breakfast, and adjusted her brown cloak so that it better covered her arms. She had wound a blue scarf around her face with the insignia of the Blue Lions knitted on each end of it, silver tassels swaying gently as she walked. It had been a gift from Mercedes from their Academy days, and to Annette’s great delight, it had still been folded neatly where she’d left it in her room. There hadn’t been time to gather her possessions before their escape, and she counted herself lucky that it had been safe all these years. 

“Good morning, Annie,” Mercedes greeted her cheerfully as she opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning air. She’d also tied a scarf around her face and fastened a thick cloak around her shoulders. It was snowing gently, though Annette didn’t think it would accumulate very much. “Are you all ready to go?”

“Yes! Oh, I’m so excited,” Annette replied, barely containing her energy. She laced her arm through the crook of Mercedes’ elbow and set off past the greenhouse and the half-frozen pond. “It’s been so long since we had a proper shopping trip.”

“And it’s a very special one,” Mercedes teased her, a sly smile on her pretty face. “Have you decided what you want to buy?”

Annette shook her head and sunk deeper into the scarf so that Mercedes wouldn’t notice how her face was going pink. She didn’t think her friend would be fooled enough to believe it was from the cold. “No,” she said quickly. “I’m just going to browse.”

“I’m sure Felix will like whatever you pick out,” Mercedes assured her, squeezing Annette’s hand tightly. “He liked your kitten song, didn’t he?”

“I think so,” Annette mumbled into her scarf as her face went pinker. “It’s kind of hard to tell with him sometimes. He just sits there and doesn’t say anything.”

“A captive audience,” Mercedes declared with a wink at Annette. 

They headed out the gates of the Monastery and down the long road to the sprawling village at the base of Garreg Mach. It had been larger and livelier five years ago, before the war with the Empire had ravaged the land, but it still had a moderately busy marketplace that had more wares for sale than just weapons and dried foods like the one within the walls of Garreg Mach. If she was going to be able to find a suitable gift for the notoriously moody swordsman, it would be here. It was especially important now that Felix had been by her side again to ensure she had a shoulder to cry on and given her his handkerchief to boot. 

Besides, Annette had said she wanted to celebrate his birthday, and he’d (somewhat grudgingly) agreed.

The village was bustling with shoppers as Mercedes pulled her over to a stall filled with an assortment of puzzles and carved board games, excitedly pointing out the ones she thought would be the most interesting to Felix. “He’s very strategically minded,” Mercedes insisted, examining a lovely chess set with shiny glass pieces on the counter before them. “I bet he would love that. And,” she added slyly. “You could play it together.”

Annette looked at Mercedes with wide eyes. “Mercie!” she whispered, sounding horrified. “You can’t just go around saying things like that. What if someone hears you?”

“Oh Annie, you worry too much,” Mercedes said with a laugh. “I just want to see you happy. And if Felix makes you happy, then I—”

“Okay, you can stop now,” Annette interrupted as her face began to burn. She turned back to the shopkeeper, vainly trying to mask how her voice quavered when she spoke. “How much is that set anyway?”

The proprietor—a bulky bald man who stood with his arms crossed and looked quite menacing—glared at them. “Three hundred gold pieces,” he rumbled, causing the whole stall to shake. The two girls glanced at each other.

“Too much,” Annette whispered, sounding a little dazed. She didn’t have nearly that much money in her whole savings pouch back in her room, and she’d only taken a small part of that in her wallet for this trip. They scurried away to the next store and Annette hoped to the Goddess that not everything would be so pricey here. 

The next store they entered turned out to be a tiny bookstore with shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. A young man in a grey cloak glanced over as they entered, shaking the snow from their heads. “Fancy meeting you two here,” Ashe waved them over with a bright smile. “You’re out early.”

“Have to beat the rush,” Annette quipped. It was just her luck that they’d run into someone they knew while she was shopping for Felix. “Are you getting a new book?”

Ashe grinned sheepishly. “You got me,” he admitted with a nervous glance at Mercedes. “I was interested in some legends about Saint Seiros.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Mercedes replied. She surveyed the shop. “Are there any cookbooks here? I really ruined that roast the other night…”

After twenty minutes of Ashe advising Mercedes on which cookbooks would be suitable for a beginner like her while Annette discretely browsed the meager selection of romance novels, the three of them left the shop and walked back out in the snowy morning. 

“You didn’t find anything you wanted, Annette?” Ashe asked kindly, noticing perhaps for the first time that she didn’t have any purchases in hand like he and Mercedes did.

“Oh, no, I didn’t—” Annette began.

“She’s not shopping for herself,” Mercedes interrupted gleefully, throwing her arms around Annette’s shoulders fondly. “She’s trying to find a birthday gift.”

“Yes,” Annette admitted, shooting Mercedes a pleading look. “Not for anyone in particular, mind you—”

“Oh, I forgot that Felix’s birthday was coming up!” Ashe exclaimed, smacking his fist against his open palm. “I should get him something too!”

Annette stared at Ashe and wondered vaguely how this conversation had taken such a downhill turn so quickly. Feeling somewhat panicked, she stepped closer to Ashe and held him by the front of his cloak. “Ashe,” she said seriously, her blue eyes doing a poor job of hiding her alarm. “How did you know I’m looking for something for Felix?”

Ashe blinked and shrugged out of her grasp. “Well, he’s the only person with a birthday this month,” he said logically. “And you’re next, aren’t you, in Harpstring Moon?”

There was very uncomfortable silence as Annette processed this statement. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Annette finally stammered with an awkward laugh. “I guess it’d be pretty weird to buy myself a birthday gift like three months early, wouldn’t it? You know, Mercie and I will just be going now, so sorry to keep you—”

“Why don’t you come along with us, Ashe?” Mercedes offered generously, completely ignoring everything Annette was saying. “The more the merrier!”

Annette hadn’t thought it was possible to hate Mercedes, but she was very close to hating her now. 

“You don’t mind?” Ashe said brightly, his cheeks going rather pink. “I’d love to join you.”

Together, the three of them traipsed through the village and visited nearly every shop trying to find a gift for Felix that he wouldn’t outright hate. It turned out that Ashe was a good sounding board for possible gift ideas, explaining what kind of weapons Felix would probably like the most, given his devotion to the blade. 

“See, hunting daggers are always useful,” Ashe explained, bouncing on the balls of his feet and nearly bursting with excitement. “I know he has a _lot_ of swords, but—”

“I can’t get him a dagger if you are,” Annette insisted over Ashe’s monologue. “You get that one, and I’ll find something else.”

They paused for lunch at a little stall Ashe swore sold the best hot sandwiches, and they were not disappointed. Although not full to bursting since provisions everywhere around Garreg Mach were still quite scarce, the food was still tasty and warm. It helped calm Annette’s frazzled nerves as she listened to how Ashe carefully explained some of the recipes in the new book Mercedes had bought. He looked genuinely happy as he pointed to specific pages and patiently answered Mercedes’ endless questions about cooking. Annette wondered if, given the chance, Felix would have looked equally happy to explain something he was so passionate about to her.

As the afternoon wore on, Annette began to give up hope of finding anything suitable for a gift. _He doesn’t like cute things,_ Annette thought morosely as she held a stuffed blue wolf in her hands. _And he hates sweets, so there’s no point in buying him chocolates. Ashe got him a dagger and I wouldn’t know what kind of weapon to get him anyway…_

“Annie, don’t worry,” Mercedes said gently, catching the look on her face and stopping in her tracks as they left the toy shop. “You’ll find the perfect gift, I’m sure of it! He will love anything you give him.”

“Mercedes is right,” Ashe said sagely. “Felix would love a paper bag if that’s all you gave him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Annette stammered, feeling her cheeks flushing pink again. “How would you know anyway?”

Ashe and Mercedes exchanged a look that did nothing to make her feel more reassured. 

“We just do,” Mercedes said merrily. “You’re worrying too much about it.”

“I just…” Annette sighed and stared at her hands. “I just want to get him something useful.”

“Why not get him a pair of new gloves?” Ashe suggested. He pointed to a stall near the edge of the village. “Everyone can use gloves, especially when their birthday falls during winter!”

Annette considered this suggestion. “That could work,” she said carefully, eyeing them both dubiously. “I’m sure he must wear them out quickly…”

“It’s settled,” Ashe said, propelling her toward the stall with Mercedes’ help. “Let’s see what they have, eh?”

\---

The twentieth day of Pegasus Moon dawned grey and snowy, much like the rest of the month had been, but the gloomy weather did nothing to dampen Annette’s spirits. She woke earlier than normal to twist her hair into a long fishtail braid, tying the end of it with a scrap of leftover blue ribbon from what she’d used to wrap Felix’s birthday gift. Sitting at her tiny vanity, Annette carefully applied a small amount of eyeshadow to her eyelids and mascara onto her lashes. It felt nice to take some extra time on her looks for once, something she’d been neglecting since returning to Garreg Mach.

_I don’t know why I’m bothering,_ she thought, flashing her reflection a satisfied smile as she examined her handiwork. _He won’t even notice._

She rapped at Mercedes’ door a few minutes later, bundled up in her cloak and scarf with Felix’s gift held securely under her arm. Together, they walked into the dining hall, discussing in quiet voices what they were going to prepare for the celebration that he might enjoy. It was already past breakfast time, and Annette was reasonably confident that Felix would already have departed the kitchen in favour of running whatever errands Professor Byleth had been sending him on lately. 

Mercedes set about baking a variety of cookies for the occasion—shortbread, gingerbread, and oatmeal since they didn’t have enough ingredients to make anything else. For her part, Annette helped to mix the batter for each batch, singing brightly about steaks and cakes as they worked, pausing periodically to play with the kittens. The morning passed swiftly and cheerfully, and Annette could almost have forgotten that they were in the middle of a war and would soon be departing for Ailell.

Ingrid arrived with Ashe in tow just after the noon hour with a wrapped gift that could only be another sword. “He collects them,” she explained in response to Annette’s curious look. “I always buy him swords, so it’s practically tradition now.”

Professor Byleth arrived not long after with Felix and Sylvain to round out their number. Annette hadn’t expected Dimitri to show, though she couldn’t quite hold back a disappointed sigh as the remaining Blue Lions clambered around a table laden with teas, cookies, stale crackers, and cheese. It wasn’t a proper tea party by noble standards, but they’d made do with what they had, and Felix looked suitably flustered as his friends showered attention on him, so Annette considered it a success, nonetheless.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Felix mumbled as the bridge of his nose began to go pink. He glanced around the small group, his eyes lingering on Annette for a half-second longer than anyone else. “I don’t really celebrate my birthday…”

“Well, you should. Goddess knows we need something to celebrate during dark times like these!” Ingrid said firmly. She plucked a gingerbread cookie from the tray on the table. “Oh, Mercedes, these are _divine._ ”

Mercedes smiled amicably. “I’m so glad you think so. We tried to make some treats that weren’t too sweet so that Felix could enjoy them as well,” she said as Felix’s hand hovered indecisively over the tray. “Annie made the oatmeal ones.”

“I only helped with the batter,” Annette said quickly as Felix picked one of the more mishappen ones up from the plate. “And I um…rolled them out for baking.”

“Anything you ladies make will be delicious,” Sylvain said with a flirtatious wink. “Alas, if only I was as lucky as _someone_ I could name to have you in _my_ life—”

Sylvain’s sentence ended in a strangled gurgling sound as Felix elbowed him hard in the ribs. “My arm slipped,” he said in a deliberately low voice, pronouncing every word with perfect clarity. “Were you saying something, Sylvain?”

“N-nothing,” he managed, holding his side with both hands. 

“Why don’t we do gifts now, eh?” Ingrid suggested with a forced laugh. She grabbed the one she’d brought and handed into Felix’s open palms. “Happy birthday!”

All told, Felix received two swords (one practical and one decorative), a hunting dagger, a knit hat, and a treatise on a variety of historical generals. He opened each one hastily, ripping the paper off as though he were trying to get the whole experience over with as quickly as possible. Mercedes and Ashe made appropriate _ooh’s_ and _ahh’s_ as he examined each gift and clapped loudly each time, toasting exuberantly with their teacups. Annette couldn’t help but find herself drawn into the fun and raised her own cup too until she nearly spilled it right onto Felix’s new treatise. 

“Sorry,” she squeaked, peering at it closely to see if any damage had been done. “I’ll be more careful, I promise!”

“That one is Annie’s,” Mercedes announced unnecessarily as Felix reached for the last little package. 

“Happy birthday, Felix,” Annette said with a nervous smile. “I hope you like it!”

Felix tugged gently on the blue ribbon so that it unfurled gracefully onto the table and carefully pulled the paper aside. A taut silence settled over the group as he took a pair of black leather gloves from the package and pulled them on, stretching his fingers experimentally in front of his face. Annette held her breath with anticipation and leaned forward in her seat to see if she could read his expression, but it was carefully blank.

“Thank you,” Felix said after a moment, flicking his eyes to hers briefly. “These are lovely.”

She supposed that was about as close to real emotion that Felix would give on the subject, but Annette couldn’t help but feel like he’d shown more excitement to receive the treatise. She supposed the Professor had picked it because it held valuable information about battle and weapons, but she had spent so much time choosing the exact right pair of gloves (and spent nearly all the money she’d brought on them) that it felt a little disappointing for Felix to give her such a generic thank you. Annette slumped back, her nervous smile fading slightly from her face.

“Here, does anyone need more tea?” Mercedes said in her sweet voice, kindly drawing attention away from Annette’s deflated expression. “There’s lots here. Sylvain, pass your cup this way, please.”

“I thought maybe we could play some games,” Ashe piped up as Sylvain reached across to have his cup refilled. He pulled a set of playing cards out of his pocket and set it on the table. “I know a really good game we could try.”

Ashe spent several minutes explaining the card game in great detail, patiently answering the multitude of questions from Mercedes and Professor Byleth, neither of whom had played many card games in the past. Ingrid challenged Sylvain to an arm-wrestling match while Felix sat quietly with Annette’s gloves in front of him and watching his friends with a look of deep amusement. Occasionally, he offered such goads as “Sylvain, that was _weak,_ even Flayn could do better” and “Ingrid, you’re not giving up your championship title _that_ easily, are you?” to them until they accused Felix of being too unpracticed to join in himself.

“Can you play on that, Annette?” Ashe asked half an hour later, ignoring the arm-wrestling rematch that was loudly occurring behind him between Felix and Ingrid. “You’d need a queen or better.”

“I don’t have anything better than an eight,” Annette sighed, spreading her cards out on the table. “I guess that means I’m out, right?”

“Sorry,” Ashe said apologetically. “You can join in the next round again if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Annette assured him. She stood and gathered the empty teapot from the table. “I’ll just go brew some fresh tea in the meantime.”

In the safety of the kitchen, Annette found it blessedly peaceful as she rinsed the pot and poked through the cupboards for a fresh box of tea leaves. The kittens meowed noisily as she worked, capering around her feet and rolling on the floor with their paws in the air. _It’s okay if he wasn’t so excited about the gloves,_ Annette scolded herself as she turned the flame up on the stove to heat the water. _It’s the thought that counts, right?_

The problem was that she had given a lot of thought to the gift, and Felix had seemed so dismissive of it, as if it wasn’t as interesting to him as the more manly things he’d received. Men seemed so invested in fighting and weaponry, and he really wasn’t any different. _Though he did seem to like Mercie’s hat,_ Annette thought tartly, remembering how he’d ran his fingers over the soft wool and grinned at the Crest of Fraldarius that she’d added to the pattern. _So sorry that I’m no good with crafty things like that!_

“They say a watched pot doesn’t boil, you know.”

Annette whirled around as if she’d been caught nicking a bite of freshly baked pie. “Felix!” she gasped, nearly dropping the box of tea leaves that she was still holding. “What are you doing here?”

“I lost my match with Ingrid,” he said easily. He walked over to the stand beside her and leaned against the counter. “She’s taking on Sylvain now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Annette said uneasily, not knowing how else to respond to this. 

He shrugged carelessly. “She always wins. Sylvain has never been very good at arm wrestling and I’m not that invested in it.” Felix paused before changing the subject. “Why didn’t you come back?”

“I’m making tea,” Annette said, gesturing to the pot on the stove which still was showing no sign of boiling. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been brooding about his lack of reaction to her gift. “So, I figured it would be better to wait for it.”

“I think you might be waiting a while yet,” Felix commented. He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking more like an awkward teenager than he had since their Academy days. “I just…wanted to thank you.”

Annette wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly. She stared at him with a perplexed expression, the box of tea in her hands momentarily forgotten. “Thank me?” she repeated, tilting her head and wondering what she had done to deserve thanks. “For what?”

“Everything,” Felix replied. He waved his arm vaguely around the kitchen. “For organizing this whole party…and for the gloves.”

The box of tea hit the floor with a loud _thunk_ between them, causing the kittens to scatter away with annoyed mewling and Felix to jump backwards in astonishment. 

“Oh no!” Annette cried, dropping to her knees to pick the box up again. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have been damaged by her clumsiness. Her fingers brushed against Felix’s as he crouched down and reached for it at the same time. Annette snatched it out of his grasp and deposited it onto the counter as though she’d burned herself. “Um…sorry about that.”

“Is everything all right?” Felix asked pointedly, arching one eyebrow at her.

“Yes, yes,” Annette said quickly, smoothing her dress to give her hands something to do. “Um…did you really like the gloves?”

“Of course.” Felix spoke without any hint of hesitation. “I have more weapons than I know what to do with, you know. The gloves though…they’re very special to me.”

Annette could feel her face glowing with happiness. Felix seemed to notice because he shuffled uncomfortably against the counter and his face flushed. “I’m glad,” she said, smiling enthusiastically. “I was so worried you wouldn’t!”

They stood in a comfortable silence for a moment as Annette squinted into the pot to see if the water had begun to boil. The kittens, having now determined that there was no further danger in the room, scampered back towards them, winding their way between Annette’s legs and rolling around by Felix’s boots and dragging the piece of green yarn with them. Annette watched them fondly and sang softly as the kittens tackled one another to try and take the yarn.  


“There is one thing I’m disappointed about, though,” Felix said abruptly, his voice unusually soft.

Annette stopped her song mid-sentence to look at him with no small amount of alarm. “Really?” she whispered anxiously as her heart seemed to sink in her chest. “What’s wrong?”

The space between them had somehow become too small. She could count every eyelash and faded freckle that Felix possessed. His breathing was too fast for someone who had done nothing but lean against a counter for the last several minutes, and she could smell his familiar scent far too clearly to keep her thoughts straight. Annette was sure he could hear her heart beating in her chest, the _thumpthumpthump_ that indicated she had no control over her own breathing either. 

“There were no steaks or cakes,” Felix whispered against her ear. 

Annette wasn’t sure how it had happened, but her arms had somehow looped around his neck. She could feel his hands around her waist, pulling her closer into his arms and gently pushing her head to rest against his chest. His heart seemed to be making the same _thumpthumpthump_ sound that hers was doing, except it had somehow gotten exponentially faster since Felix’s arms had tightened around her. It felt so comforting to be held like this, and not, for once, because she’d been crying or injured in battle. Just to be held for no other reason than because he wanted to hold her. 

“Maybe next time,” Annette murmured, turning her face upward and finding herself not quite able to tear her eyes away from his. 

Felix made a _mhm_ sound in the back of his throat. 

“Hey, Annette, is that tea almost—oh!”

Felix tore himself away from Annette so quickly that she felt momentarily dazed. He spun on his heel and his whole body went rigid as he caught sight of Sylvain standing in the doorway, one hand raised in greeting and wide grin plastered on his face. Annette felt her face turn an impressive shade of red and turned away to check the pot of water that she’d forgotten was there. Too afraid to turn around and face the door, Annette fiddled with adding the tea leaves into the teapot, despite how her hands were too shaky to do it properly without making a mess of the counter.

“Out,” Felix hissed at Sylvain, his footsteps clomping away from her. 

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Annette alone with only the beating of her own heart in her ears and the memory of Felix’s arms around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short installment! Sorry about that--the next chapters will be longer :) I prefer longer chapters but alas, this one felt better a bit shorter.
> 
> I think I left this off at a bit of a cliffhanger. I hope you enjoyed this one. So close and yet so far! You may be able to tell, but I had some fun with this one! Next chapter we are off to Ailell! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting :) I am so thrilled that you've stuck with me this long <3 
> 
> Love, Kami


	25. Living a Lie

The journey to Ailell was anything but pleasant, and not only because Felix was about to see his old man again so soon after leaving Castle Fraldarius. 

The Blue Lions had been on the road for four days and would arrive at the Valley of Torment on the morrow, though Felix couldn’t see how anything could possibly be more tormenting than the living hell that Sylvain had managed to inflict on him. So far, his best friend had given up trying to apologize to Felix about the scene he’d witnessed in the kitchens, and Felix had been in no mood to broach the topic. He was still livid with Sylvain for his tactless entrance—where else did he think the two most conspicuous people in the group were just then?—and he didn’t even have the energy to yell at him about it. For once in his life, Felix felt more drained than anything else, so he settled for simply ignoring Sylvain entirely. It seemed easier than facing the reality of the situation.

It wasn’t just Sylvain, of course. He had been avoiding everyone since the catastrophic end to his birthday party, not that it seemed to do much good. Everyone knew what had happened in the kitchen, and how close he’d come to kissing Annette. How could they not? They had all seen the murderous look in Felix’s eyes when he left it with Sylvain in tow and Annette’s tomato-red cheeks when she’d followed them out only a few minutes later with a teapot that she could barely hold steady in her hands. She’d always been a bad liar.

Felix felt his face flushing traitorously at the memory. _I’m a fool,_ he thought angrily as his heart pounded painfully against his ribs. _I never should have allowed myself to care for her. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place!_

He was supposed to be scouting the road ahead for danger as they travelled toward Ailell, and although he was grateful for the distance it put between himself and Annette, he hated how it left him alone with his thoughts. If he was properly honest with himself, he wasn’t really scouting at all; just getting ahead of everyone else so that he didn’t have to deal with the uncomfortable looks from Ashe, or the sickeningly compassionate looks from Mercedes, or the desperately apologetic looks that Sylvain kept throwing at him. 

Felix especially didn’t want to have to see the hurt in Annette’s eyes every time he caught her gaze and saw the way her face heated up to the same tomato-red shade it was after…

He shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away. _Don’t think about her,_ Felix counselled himself harshly. _You have to forget about her. There’s no future for us, not together, not ever._

He hadn’t forgotten about her in five years.

“Felix?”

He snapped out of his reverie, almost believing that Annette had somehow followed him all this way to talk about everything that had happened. She was going to tell him how this would never work, that she didn’t like him the way he liked her, that they had to put this whole situation behind them and never speak of it again. He knew he would agree, and tell her how she’d misunderstood his intentions, and agree that it would be best if they never spoke of what happened ever again. 

_And it will all be a lie,_ he through angrily. _Not a single word I spoke would be true._

“Felix?” Ingrid said again, landing her pegasus on the road ahead of him. Her green eyes were almost as compassionate as Mercedes’ were. It made Felix want to run in the opposite direction, only that if he did, it would lead right back to the others. “Can we talk?”

He merely stared at her and tightened his grip on the reins of his black horse. 

They walked side by side on the path, despite how her pegasus’ wings looked cramped against its sides. She didn’t say anything for a while and Felix was grateful for that. He didn’t know if he even wanted to talk to her, but she was here now, and part of him was happy to not be alone anymore. His own head wasn’t a comforting space, not with the memory of Annette in his arms with her hands pulling his face down to hers—

“I guess asking if you’re all right is probably a stupid question,” Ingrid interrupted his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how gentle her voice could be since he usually heard it when she was yelling at him or Sylvain. Had Glenn known how softly she could speak? “But I’ll ask anyway: are you all right?”

“No,” Felix replied honestly. His voice sounded hoarse. “I’m not.”

“I figured,” Ingrid said. She patted her steed’s long neck affectionately. “It’s all right to not be all right, you know.”

“Well, isn’t that just wonderful,” he said bitterly. “Just get to the point, Ingrid. I know why you’re here.”

She sighed heavily and Felix saw her shoulders slump. “You need to talk to Sylvain,” she said unexpectedly. “He’s hurting. Fe, he’s genuinely sorry for what happened.”

Felix blinked. Ingrid hadn’t used his nickname since they were children, and certainly not once since Glenn had died. It was a reminder of a softer Felix, one whose childhood had been happy and filled with the love of family and friends. It was the name of a Felix who didn’t exist anymore. The man he had become had no room for feelings; he had to be strong, and to be strong, he had to keep himself from feeling anything. 

Especially the weight of a small woman with orange hair against his chest.

“It doesn’t matter,” Felix said instead. “In fact, it’s for the better that he came in when he did, before I did something I would regret.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ingrid said with certainty. Maybe he was as bad of a liar as Annette, if Ingrid could see so clearly through his lies. “You’ve liked Annette for so long, and it’s more than time for you to have told her so.”

“Still, it’s better than leading her on,” Felix grunted. He avoided Ingrid’s eyes, knowing she would still be looking at him with all the compassion that only a sister could offer. “There’s no hope for us, Ing. My old man will see to that if I don’t die in this war first.” 

“Don’t say such things!” Ingrid gasped. “You’re not going to die. No one is going to die. We’re in it together. Once we win, everything can go back to normal. You can court her formally, if that’s what you want.”

“Once we win?” Felix repeated incredulously. “Listen to yourself. There is no hope of winning, not with the way things stand now. Not by marching on Enbarr with an army less than half the size of Edelgard’s and without even a third of the necessary supplies to make any kind of attack remotely viable. There’s no hope of winning this war, and so there’s no hope for Annette and I.”

“Fe, that’s ridiculous,” Ingrid said pleadingly. There were tears sparkling in her eyes now. “You can’t really think all that. You can have your happiness now. You don’t need to wait until the war is over.”

“And put her through what happened to you when Glenn died?” Felix shouted at her, completely losing his temper. “No, Ing. I won’t do it. Better to pretend I never liked her than to do that.”

Ingrid was really crying now, tears streaking down her face. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her glove. Felix couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for that, but it didn’t change the fact that he was right. She’d been hurt by Glenn’s death, and she’d struggled to move on ever since, never allowing herself to give in to Sylvain’s advances despite how hard he had tried. If there was one thing Felix had learned, it was to keep his feelings locked away so deeply that they couldn’t hurt anyone. He didn’t want his death to hurt anyone the way Glenn’s had. 

“How dare you think you know how Glenn’s death affected me?” Ingrid shouted back, her tears running steadily down her cheeks. “You don’t know a fucking thing about it! I miss Glenn everyday, and I’ll always love him, but I’d have died myself by now if I tried to pretend that I didn’t care about anyone else. Like _you,_ you selfish idiot!” 

Ingrid’s words stung like daggers. Felix stopped his horse instinctively, staring at her with cold eyes. She continued to shout without giving him a chance to reply. 

“You think pushing Annette away and pretending everything that happened wasn’t real will make her feel better if you die?” Ingrid laughed bitterly. “That will kill her, and then it will kill you.”

Felix didn’t want Ingrid to be right about this, too. He didn’t want to hurt her, but the risks were too high. _It really was better that Sylvain walked in when he did,_ Felix tried to convince himself. _This would be harder if we’d…_

He couldn’t even kid himself anymore. It was already too hard to pretend that he didn’t feel anything for her, that he didn’t want to _try_ to build a life with her, but it was the only thing that had kept him going since Glenn’s death. He’d learned to push feelings away as a child, and he’d been so good at keeping Sylvain, Ingrid, and even his old man as far from his heart as he could. If it hadn’t been for Annette and her stupid, wonderful songs, he might even have succeeded in not truly loving anyone ever again.

“I can’t do it, Ing,” Felix said after a long silence. “I can’t allow myself to keep caring for her. Even if we _do_ win this war, what hope is there for us? My old man is intent on marrying me off to some well-bred woman for the good of the Fraldarius family. He won’t consider her. I have to put a stop to this before it goes any further.”

“Have you actually asked him?” Ingrid asked him bluntly. Tears were still leaking from her eyes, but she seemed to have calmed down. “When was the last time you really sat down with him and talked, father to son?”

Felix shook his head, not bothering to answer.

“Fe, Lord Rodrigue loves you,” Ingrid said gently. “He loved you and Glenn more than anything in the world, and you’re the only one he has left. I think if you asked him for only one thing in the world, he would do whatever he could to give it to you.”

Felix could feel tears beginning to well in his own eyes. He wished that Ingrid was right. 

“I don’t know how to love, Ing,” Felix whispered as the tears started to fall down his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. It had probably been when Glenn died, after the rage and the fury had burned to embers. “I only hurt people. You, Syl…Annette…”

Ingrid reached out and pulled him into an embrace that he didn’t have the strength to fight. It had been a long time since they’d really acted like the siblings they had once been destined to become. “It’s all right, Fe,” Ingrid whispered soothingly, holding his shaking body tightly. “You’re learning. Please, don’t throw it all away.”

\---

They returned to the camp together, eyes red from crying but the tears having blessedly stopped. The sun had long since set over the gathered Blue Lions and they’d already set up the sleeping tents for the evening. To Felix’s great relief, Annette was nowhere in sight—she was probably already in the tent she shared with Mercedes, and she rarely left it once they made camp each night—and even the knights who had accompanied them had dispersed around their own fire to play games of chance into the night. The Professor was standing on the far edge of the camp with her back to them as she spoke to Dimitri. His good eye followed Felix and Ingrid as they crossed to the cookpot that was still simmering with the last dregs of stew that had been the evening meal. Felix glared at him and hoped it looked scathing. 

Sylvain was sitting in front of his own tent with a bowl of half-eaten stew in hand and the gloomiest look on his face that Felix had ever seen. He looked up as Felix and Ingrid helped themselves to food and dropped his gaze back to his own feet when they glanced toward him. Ingrid nodded silently at Felix, her green eyes resolute, and walked away to put up her own tent for the evening. _She’s right, as always,_ Felix thought as he watched her go. _He looks like a kicked puppy._

“Is this seat taken?” Felix asked shortly, jerking his head at the empty space beside Sylvain. 

The redhead shook his head and shifted further to the right so that Felix could sit beside him. He didn’t say anything, staring into his stew without interest. Most people thought that Sylvain didn’t know how to be sincere, and that his only passion in life was bedding any woman who would let him. Felix knew him better than that though; they’d been friends for so long, after all. No one amongst the Blue Lions could be said to have had a happy life, but Sylvain’s had been one of the worst, and Felix had witnessed it firsthand. People weren’t built to deal with too much pain; it was easier to deal with it if you put up a persona to hide behind. You could avoid some of the pain that way. 

_I should know,_ Felix thought glumly. _I’ve tried to do the same thing as Sylvain for years. Not that it’s been working so well lately._

“I’m so sorry,” Sylvain whispered into his strew. His voice didn’t hold any of its usual vigor. “Fe, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make this up to you.”

Felix shoved his spoon into the bowl and pushed the contents around listlessly. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “It was for the best. You stopped me from doing something I’d regret.”

Ingrid had told him this was a lie, and she was right. Still, Felix wanted to believe it was true, and part of him hoped that Sylvain would let him live this lie. And Sylvain, being the good and true friend that he was, didn’t.

“You can’t mean that,” Sylvain said, dropping his spoon with a clatter into his bowl. “Really, Fe…I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“Yes, I do,” Felix lied. It seemed to come easier the more times he said it, and he thought that he might even begin to believe it so long as he didn’t let Annette didn’t push her way back into his heart. He could erect walls to keep her—and everyone—out. He’d done it before, after all. “I’ll just end up hurting her. It’s better this way.”

“I think you’ll hurt her more by denying your feelings,” Sylvain said quietly. He turned his head to regard Felix, his food forgotten. “Not to mention yourself. You’ve been pining after her for five years.”

“I’ll stop,” Felix replied harshly. He was afraid to cry again, but the pain in his chest was getting worse. “I’ll just avoid her. I’ll speak to Professor Byleth about it and make sure we never have to work with each other again.”

“And you think _I’m_ an idiot with women?” he said acrimoniously, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Yes,” Felix said. He sighed and shook his head. “I guess I am too. You rubbed off on me.”

That got a rueful smile out of Sylvain. He shook his own head, his red hair looking more tumbled with the motion and Felix thought it rather resembled a wilted flower. “Seriously, Fe,” he said gravely. “You have to know that’s never going to work. Even if the Professor _does_ agree, did you think about what Annette will have to say about it?”

“It doesn’t matter what she says,” Felix grunted. “This is the way it has to be, Syl.”

Sylvain leaned back and looked up toward the darkening sky. For once, the night was clear, and they could see the stars above like little twinkling lights. They sat in silence for a time, their stew forgotten and cold. _She’ll agree,_ Felix thought as he watched the stars. There were none shooting across the sky for him to wish on. He didn’t even know what kind of wish he would make. _Out of everyone, Annette will know it’s for the best._

“You have a lot to learn about women, Fe,” Sylvain murmured finally. He lifted his arm and traced the constellation of the Maiden of Wind. “If you think she’s just going to accept your decision. Women don’t tend to like it when men make decisions _for_ them that involve them.”

\---

The Blue Lions arrived at Ailell the following morning after a night that was not terribly restful for anyone. Felix had not slept a wink the whole night (and had not slept much more during their previous nights on the road either); instead, he had lain awake ruminating endlessly on how he was going to broach this topic with Professor Byleth. He didn’t know if he would approach Annette about it and found the thought of it rather intimidating. Felix had been avoiding her as much as their close quarters would allow and she had so far seemed content to do the same. 

Felix descended into the heat of the Valley of Torment with Professor Byleth and Gilbert at the head of their little band. He knew Annette was following farther back with Mercedes and Ashe, neither of whom seemed to leave her alone for any length of time during their journey. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end from the intensity of her gaze. Part of him wanted to turn back and meet her eyes, trying to convey everything he wanted to wordlessly, but he couldn’t make his body turn that far, so he settled for glaring at Dimitri instead.

“It’s so bloody hot here,” Sylvain complained loudly from behind him. “You wouldn’t expect a volcano in place so close to Faerghus in winter, eh?”

“This is a horrible place,” Professor Byleth remarked as she surveyed the area. The ground was sweltering beneath Felix’s boots, and there were bubbling pools of lava scattered across the terrain. “No wonder people avoid it.”

“They say this place was born of the Goddess’ rage,” Gilbert explained in his deep voice. “It is where she passed judgement on the corruption of humans, if the legends are to be believed.”

“It was said to be a bountiful place of beautiful forests and animals,” Mercedes supplied helpfully. She’d come forward to join them, albeit alone. “Now, it resembles our concept of hell, where one’s sins are purified in flame. Mind you,” she added with a smile. “The Goddess does not speak of a place like that in her teachings.”

“It’s nonsense anyway,” Dimitri grunted. He scowled at Mercedes, who did not react. “Sins are not washed away so easily. They stain you forever.”

“People who cannot face their sins cling to the idea of place where they can be purified,” Gilbert said quietly. He stared straight ahead as if he was weighing the merits of such a place. 

Dimitri shook his head, and his expression was almost thoughtful. 

“Look there,” Sylvain pointed across the valley. “Do you see…?”

“Are those people gathered on the plateau over there?” Mercedes asked with genuine surprise. “Is that Lord Rodrigue and his soldiers?”

“Those are not my father’s soldiers,” Felix snarled, drawing his blade and dropping into a light-footed stance. “Those are not Fraldarius banners they have raised.”

“It is House Rowe,” Dimitri growled, clutching his lance tightly in his hands. “They supported Cornelia and sold out Faerghus to the Empire.” He laughed cynically, his whole bulky body shaking with the force of it. “I will crush them all!”

He rushed forward down the path and deeper into the valley without waiting for Professor Byleth to give the order. She motioned Felix to follow him. “There must have been a spy amongst our company,” she said. “We cannot wait for Lord Rodrigue to arrive. Felix, go and assist him.”

Felix took off after the boar prince at a dead run with his sword drawn. Dimitri had a head start, but Felix had always been fast, relying on his speed to win fights where Dimitri relied on his brute strength. He caught up with Dimitri just as he began to engage the first ranks of House Rowe soldiers, screaming wordlessly as his lance cut a bloody swath through them. Soldiers fell like ragdolls at his feet, bleeding and broken on the burning ground. The smell of burning flesh filled Felix’s nostrils. He fought back a wave of nausea as he forced his way to Dimitri’s side, fending off attacks to the prince’s exposed flank.

“Watch what you’re doing, boar!” Felix snapped, shoving a man with an axe away with his blade. “You’ll end up dead if you’re not careful. Some people might miss you if that happened.”

“It would be better if I died,” Dimitri growled. He stabbed his lance upwards into the exposed underbelly of a low-flying wyvern, spraying the two of them with warm blood. “The voices would stop, then. I could finally find rest.”

“And leave us to clean up your mess?” Felix snorted. “I don’t think so.”

It was almost like old times to fight side by side again. Dimitri fought like a boar, but his strength was undeniable, and although he spoke of dying like it would be a relief, he moved with the determination of a man who would not simply allow himself to be killed. With Felix at his side, it was almost as if they were untouchable. _What would it be like to fight alongside a sane Dimitri?_ Felix wondered. They stood back-to-back as House Rowe’s soldiers closed in in them, axes and spears drawn. _If he can fight like this now, how much stronger would he be if he weren’t a boar?_

More wyverns were swooping above them now that it was apparent that the foot soldiers weren’t able to close in on the two men. Ingrid wheeled above them too, her shining lance piercing the armor of the riders while Ashe’s arrows pierced their wings. The wyverns fell like stone to the ground, shaking the plateau with each landing. Yet there were more wyverns than Ingrid could fell, and they moved too quickly for Ashe to hit every shot on their scaly bodies. They hadn’t brought enough soldiers to easily fend off an ambush of this size. 

_We should have expected this,_ Felix thought as he lunged forward and plunged his sword into the chest of an oncoming solider. He could feel the air around him stirring with the great beating wings of another wyvern approaching him from the rear. Raising his blade with just enough time to hold off the creature’s massive talons, Felix grunted as he felt his balance wavering under the force of the creature. _We should have been watching for spies in our ranks._

The creature cried out shrilly as it pushed harder against Felix’s defences. He could see Dimitri engaged with three armored knights and knew he was too far away to be of any use. The man on the wyvern grinned savagely down at Felix, swinging his axe madly and catching his exposed arm. Felix howled with pain, falling to one knee as his arm gave out and dropping his sword to the ground beside him. The wyvern wheeled above him once more before its rider directed into a downward spiral, bloody axe held low to catch Felix’s exposed back.

He rolled away from the place he’d been kneeling and tried to ignore the way his exposed skin burned against the ground. The wyvern gave another shrill cry as it turned its course and swooped back toward him. It was faster than Felix had expected, and he still hadn’t gotten his footing back to return to his fallen blade and make a proper stand against the creature. He raised his injured arm (which, thank the Goddess, was not his dominant arm) to shield himself from the oncoming axe, hoping his armor would be enough to deflect the worst of the damage.

The wind picked up around him, forcing the creature to stop mid-flight and hover awkwardly in the air as if fighting against an invisible wall. Long, thin cuts were appearing along its scaly body and that of its rider. The two creatures screamed in pain as the cuts became deeper and the blood seeped out faster. Felix watched in muted astonishment as his opponent fell uselessly to the ground, covered in hundreds of fine cuts. The wyvern trembled as it hit the ground and its tail twitched several times until it, too, lay still.

Felix didn’t need to wonder what had happened. He knew.

Still, he turned his head over his shoulder and saw her several paces away, hands held out in front of her and fingers splayed wide. Somehow, she floated in the air as though she was carried here by the wind itself. Her orange hair billowed around her face, glowing like fire. Annette stared at him with eyes as hard as jewels, her perfect lips set in a thin line. She didn’t smile at him and she didn’t say anything. Felix stared back, unsure if he ought to speak.  


“Annette…” he began, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken since their almost-kiss on his birthday. 

She stared at him with a ferocity he wasn’t used to seeing in her blue eyes. “Not now,” she said shortly, turning to go.

And then she was gone.

\---

Lord Rodrigue arrived at Ailell just as they managed to fend off the worst of the ambush. The soldiers he had brought bolstered their offense and forced the surviving soldiers to either flee the battle or die. With the wound to his arm already healed by Mercedes at their makeshift rendezvous point, Felix joined Professor Byleth as she greeted his father with a wry smile. Dimitri stood with her, surprisingly calm in the aftermath of battle for a boar who had so recently been glorying in the blood of his enemies as they fell around his feet. It would have been funny if Felix wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of his own. He couldn’t forget the look in Annette’s eyes.

“It has been too long, Your Highness,” Lord Rodrigue greeted Dimitri with a formal bow. “I must confess, it gladdens my heart to see you alive and well.”

“This is war, Lord Rodrigue,” Dimitri replied coldly. “Only you would speak so lightly during a time like this.”

“You needn’t worry about my loyalty,” he replied smoothly, brushing back a strand of his navy hair. “It’s been hell fighting against the traitors holding Fhirdiad all these long years. I rushed there as soon as I heard you had been executed, but I was too late.” He paused to consider Dimitri. “I am glad to see you well.”

“Well…” Dimitri grunted, folding his arms across his chest. His face was still spattered with blood and his blond hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. “I am here. It is enough.”

“I have you and Sir Gilbert to thank as well,” Lord Rodrigue continued with a nod to Professor Byleth. “And you, Felix and Sylvain. You have done well. It would seem your quest was not so ludicrous after all.” 

Felix snorted and looked away. 

“Tell us all you know, Lord Rodrigue,” Dimitri ordered in a hoarse voice. “What is happening in Faerghus? We need any information you have before we make our next move.”

Lord Rodrigue sighed. “Once Cornelia seized power after your alleged execution, she invited the Imperial army into Fhirdiad. She took control of the weak western regions of the country and forced us into a defensive battle. We haven’t been able to retake Fhirdiad and she’s kept us penned in the east. It’s a stalemate that we haven’t had any chance of turning in our favour.”

“I should have killed her five years ago,” Dimitri spat. 

“Your Highness,” Lord Rodrigue said. “Fhirdiad is in a terrible state right now. With you returned to us, I believe we can finally make a real push to retake the capital. The people will rally to your name.”

“We march to Enbarr,” Dimitri interrupted coldly. 

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Lord Rodrigue began. “We will be caught between the Imperial army at our front and our rear. We cannot afford to—”

“There is no time to waste, Lord Rodrigue,” Dimitri interrupted again, his voice rising. “We take down Enbarr before anything else.”

“You’re wasting your breath old man,” Felix muttered. “A boar does not listen to reason. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Lord Rodrigue glanced at him but said nothing, turning back to Dimitri with a pleading look in his steely eyes. “If I may ask, who is more important: the dead, or the living? Surely you understand—the starving and the downtrodden in Fhirdiad have been longing for salvation from Imperial control for years.”

“Silence!” Dimitri barked, his face contorting into a snarl. 

“No, Dimitri,” Lord Rodrigue snapped, unafraid of the boar. He spoke like a father reprimanding an unruly child, dropping all pretense of deference. Felix supposed that if there was one thing his father was good at, it was keeping the boar in line. “You will hear me out on this.”

“The dead will not forgive her,” Dimitri growled. “I will not forgive her!”

“Certainly not,” Lord Rodrigue shook his head, clearly frustrated by the turn this conversation had taken. Felix sighed and glanced around the assembled Blue Lions, but Annette was not looking at him. She was staring at his father so unflinchingly that Felix wasn’t certain she was even listening to the conversation. “I only request that you liberate Fhirdiad before marching on Enbarr. I am confident your father would have done the same.”

“You know nothing,” Dimitri said with certainty. “My father is dead by her hand. She must pay for that.”

A silence settled over the company as Lord Rodrigue regarded Dimitri warily. Felix thought he was debating the merits of arguing the point further, trying to determine if there was any way to convince Dimitri of the folly in this plan. He had tried to stand in for the father Dimitri had lost, and there was once a time that the prince might have taken what he said to heart. _But that time has long since passed. The boar is obstinate,_ Felix thought acidly. _Animals don’t listen to reason._

“Very well,” Lord Rodrigue finally said. He bowed formally again to Dimitri. “As you are our king, we will follow where you go. However,” he added, a note of steel in his voice now. “It is said that those who seek revenge alone will eventually lose the strength to see their quest through. You would do well to ensure that you do not fall into this trap.”

Dimitri merely looked at him, his one eye cold and dead. Felix could not tell if he had taken the warning to heart, but he knew Dimitri well enough to assume it had fallen on deaf ears. Dimitri did not listen to anyone anymore—not even the Professor who had been by his side since her miraculous return from the dead. He never listened to Felix, nor Ingrid, or anyone else. He only listened to the voices of the dead that seemed to crowd his mind. 

“Take this,” Lord Rodrigue said after a moment. He motioned one of his soldiers forward with a weapon that Felix had seen many times in the palace. “Areadbhar is your birthright.”

Dimitri accepted the Relic gingerly. He held it in his hands and stared at it in silence for a long moment. It was a strange lance, and Felix thought it looked rather ungainly to swing properly in battle, but with Dimitri’s reach it would be a formidable weapon. His grip tightened around it and gave it an experimental swing, judging its balance and feel in his hand. “This was my father’s,” he said quietly. “I must thank you for bringing it to me.”

“It was the least I could do,” Lord Rodrigue grinned thinly. “I stole it back when I was last in Fhirdiad.”

Felix shook his head. “Understated as ever, old man,” he said, unable to hold back a tight grin of his own. “I can’t imagine it was easy to snatch this from under her long nose.”

Lord Rodrigue chuckled darkly and bowed again to Dimitri. “Please, allow me to accompany you on your quest. I assure you that Faerghus is in good hands with Margrave Gautier and my younger brother in my stead.”

Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest. “Why would you wish to leave your post in favour of following us on a campaign you have lately advised me to abandon?” he asked coolly. 

“I have a promise I must keep to the late King Lambert, my good friend,” Lord Rodrigue replied smoothly. He’d been ready for this question, though he did not elaborate. “We will destroy the Empire together. I just pray that it is enough to save Faerghus.”

“We would be glad to have your blade,” Professor Byleth said when Dimitri did not reply. “Your support will be invaluable to our cause. Come,” she said, turning and gesturing for the company to depart. “We should leave this place and return swiftly to Garreg Mach.”

Professor Byleth led the way, flanked by Gilbert and Dimitri, the Sword of the Creator still clutched in her hand. The others fell into a crowd behind her, speaking in low voices as they trailed in her wake. Felix tried not to notice how Annette didn’t give him even a single look as she turned and linked her arm with Mercedes, head held high and proud. He glanced at Sylvain who shrugged and shook his head. 

_What a mess,_ Felix thought, trudging sullenly after them. _I have to fix this._

“Felix, a word,” Lord Rodrigue said, catching his arm as he moved to follow Sylvain up the path. 

“What is it?” Felix grunted, sounding more annoyed than he wanted. 

“Thank you for finding him,” Lord Rodrigue replied softly as he watched Dimitri’s retreating back. “He is…different, but it is enough that he is here.”

“He won’t do as you wish,” Felix said, folding his arms and watching Dimitri as well. “He doesn’t listen to anyone, and he’s convinced himself that he must go to Enbarr. It’s suicidal.”

They walked in silence, trailing behind the rest of the party. Felix could feel his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin from the heat of Ailell and his own sweat. He knew he must look awful, covered in bruises and dried blood, and with the thrill of battle now fading, he felt exhausted. It wasn’t like his father hadn’t seen him like this—or indeed, in a worse state—but he felt somehow like he should look better, less like himself and more like Glenn in his shining armor. It was a ridiculous thought since Glenn’s body had been mangled during the Tragedy of Duscur, but Felix liked to remember how his brother had looked before then, with a cocky grin and shining eyes. 

_I’ve never looked anything like Glenn,_ Felix admonished himself inwardly. _Glenn had an easy smile, never worried about anything, and was always chasing his dream of being a hero. What am I chasing?_

“You fought bravely today,” Lord Rodrigue said unexpectedly. He was smiling at Felix, hands clasped in front him as they walked. “I am proud that you fought alongside His Highness and upheld our family honour.”

“Don’t mistake me,” Felix grumbled, flashing his eyes toward Dimitri’s straight back. “I don’t trust him. He’s a liability.”

“We need him,” Lord Rodrigue reminded Felix as they crested the top of the hill. “He needs to lead Faerghus, and if marching to Enbarr is what it will take for him to take up this duty, then we must follow him. I trust you will as well?” 

“Of course,” Felix muttered, not feeling particularly interested in discussing this topic. He could see Annette mounting her own horse and setting off between Mercedes and Ashe after the Professor. As if sensing his gaze, she turned in the saddle and caught his eyes. They had the same fierce glow as when she’d saved him during the battle. He thought she looked angry. “But I’m not going to put my life in danger for him. Not with the way he is now.” 

Lord Rodrigue followed his eyes. “I see,” he said at length, motioning for his retainer to bring his horse. The man saluted and hurried away, leaving them alone. “When we return to Garreg Mach, Felix, we must discuss—” 

“Just do it,” Felix cut him off harshly, untying the reins of his own horse from the tree where he’d left him. “Arrange whatever you like.”

Lord Rodrigue stared at him in surprise. “What did you say?” he asked quietly, as if Felix hadn’t spoken clearly. 

“You want to arrange a marriage,” Felix snapped. He swung up into the saddle and glared at his father. “Do it. Arrange it with whomever you wish, I really don’t care.”

“Felix,” Lord Rodrigue laid a firm hand over his. He looked genuinely concerned. “This isn’t like you. What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Felix muttered. He yanked his hand out of his father’s grip. “But if you want to get some woman involved with our family, then do it. Put her through what Ingrid went through when I end up dead because of this boar prince.”

Snapping the reins, Felix set off after the others with one last look at his father. 

_This is for the best,_ he told himself. His knuckles were white as he gripped the reins and the leather bit deeply into his palms. _I can’t hurt her if my old man just does what he’s wanted to do with me for years. He would never stand for arranging anything with Annette, he said as much before. She’ll be happier this way._

Felix tried not to think about how Annette had appeared angry when she looked at him, and he tried very hard not second-guess his decision. 

“It has to be this way,” he whispered to himself. “I don’t need to be happy. I’m not doing to her what Glenn did to Ingrid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so we follow the fluff up with angst :) 
> 
> I hope you liked this one! Felix isn't really thinking straight so his decision making is not the best right now. I think the events of the last chapter would cause a lot of turmoil within him, so he's struggling to come to terms with his own feelings, and he's a bit scared of them. I tried to really explore that, so I hope it came across well.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for reading! <3 
> 
> Love, Kami


	26. Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my good friend TwilightAF, without whom this chapter would not exist! Thank you for reading each draft and providing insightful feedback as I worked through the kinks. I could not have done this without you! <3

The Blue Lions arrived back at Garreg Mach early in Lone Moon accompanied by a large contingent of Fraldarius soldiers. Professor Byleth had been conferring on plans and possible strategies for their attack on Enbarr with Dimitri, Gilbert, and Lord Rodrigue throughout their return journey, but Annette was happy to be excluded from these discussions. She rode alongside Mercedes and Ashe, listening to them sharing cooking tips and debating the finer details of the legends surrounding Saint Seiros, and feeling immensely grateful that they didn’t expect her to participate in the conversation. She had too much on her mind to offer any comments of value anyway.

Returning to the comfort of her own room was a blessing. There were no more apologetic looks from Sylvain, no more pleading looks from Ingrid, and no more curious looks from Professor Byleth. She didn’t want to hide away from her problems the way she had when she had been a student, but there was a solace in finding some private time to dwell on the experience alone. There were times when being surrounded by others did more harm than good, and Annette thought that this was one of them. They meant well, she understood that, but she needed space after being on the road with everyone for well over a week. 

Especially because she’d been so close to Felix during that time. It had hurt to be so near to him, and eventually it made her angry. 

_He won’t even look at me if he can avoid it!_ Annette thought furiously, refusing to shed any tears for him. She hugged her pillow close to her chest and leaned back against her headboard. _He probably has some twisted sense of honour about the whole thing._

She knew Felix well enough to guess at what he thought of the situation. His eyes had been so sincere before they were interrupted, and his hands had been so sure as they gently pulled her closer. He had wanted to kiss her, and he _would_ have kissed her if it hadn’t been for Sylvain. She didn’t have the heart to blame him for interrupting; he hadn’t done it on purpose, after all, and he’d been looking ridiculously apologetic whenever he saw either of them ever since. But all the same, it had shattered a moment that Annette had never thought they would share. 

“Annie, are you there?” Mercedes called softly through the door, rapping her knuckles twice against the wood. “May I come in?”

“It’s open,” Annette called back, not moving from her spot on the bed. “You can come in, Mercie.”

Mercedes stepped into the room with an ever-present tray of tea under one arm and a kind smile on her face. She shut the door gently behind her and sat at Annette’s old table to pour them each a steaming cup. Mercedes busied herself with the work of preparing the tea, humming tunelessly as she worked. It was strangely comforting to Annette’s ears. 

“Here you are,” she pushed a cup across the table to Annette. “With an extra spoonful of sugar for you.”

“Thank you, Mercie,” Annette muttered, taking the tea and blowing gently. “I appreciate it.”

“I know you do. There’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix,” Mercedes replied with a smile. “Are you doing all right?”

“Not really,” Annette said darkly. She stared into the still liquid as if it might show her something of the future. “I’m so angry, Mercie. Felix won’t even look at me anymore.”

“Only when you could catch him at it,” Mercedes corrected her serenely. “Really, he can’t keep his eyes off you.”

“Then why won’t he speak to me?” Annette demanded. She slurped her tea grumpily. “It’s like he’s afraid to be alone with me now.”

Mercedes sipped her tea like a proper lady and merely smiled. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle her, and Annette had spent countless hours over the years wondering how she did it. It seemed like a useful skill to have, and Annette thought it would make everything so much easier if she could better control her emotions. 

_It should never have come to this,_ she thought angrily, clutching her teacup more forcefully than necessary. _I knew better. I should never have let it go that far._

The problem was that she’d wanted that more than anything. She had been so happy to see Felix open up to her like that, to allow himself to be vulnerable and open his arms to her. Annette hadn’t dared hope until that moment that he might share her feelings, knowing it would hurt so much more if it turned out she was wrong and that everything she felt was completely one-sided. Everything felt so right for that one blessed moment that they held each other, and now Annette couldn’t help but feel resentful that he’d closed himself off from her completely again. 

“Of course he is,” Mercedes agreed merrily. “He’s afraid that he won’t be able to hold back again.”

“I don’t want him to hold back!” Annette retorted. “I _want_ him to kiss me, Mercie. He _should_ have done it.” She snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “He ought to have tossed Sylvain out and finished what he started!”

“Oh, Annie,” Mercedes laughed as she brought her teacup back to her lips. “Then why are you holed up in here where he can’t?”

“What?” Annette stammered, pulling herself up straighter and staring at Mercedes as if she had never seen her before. “What in the world are you talking about, Mercie?”

“If you want him to kiss you,” Mercedes said with an innocent smile. “Why are you here? Felix can’t kiss you if he can’t see you, silly!”

“It’s not like he’s going to now anyway,” Annette muttered. She took another angry gulp of her tea and set the cup down onto the table with a clatter. “We’re just going to go back to pretending we’re classmates. Never mind that we haven’t been in school together in five years.”

“Who decided that?” Mercedes asked her shrewdly as she reached for the teapot. “Did you talk to him about that?”

“Well no,” Annette said testily. “He hasn’t been talking to me, remember?”

“Then why do you need to go back to the way things were before?” Mercedes asked in a curiously innocent voice while she spooned two generous helpings of sugar into Annette’s tea. “The Annie I know wouldn’t simply give up if she wanted something.”

Annette stared at Mercedes in a stunned silence.

“You mean to say…” Annette began uncertainly. “…that you think I should just…tell him how I feel? Just…tell him I don’t want to pretend there’s nothing between us anymore?”

Mercedes smiled.

“Oh no,” Annette said quickly, dropping the pillow into her lap and holding her hands up in front of herself. “Oh no, Mercie…I can’t do that. It’s Felix…he’s so stubborn. He’ll never agree.”

“That’s up to him to decide,” Mercedes counselled her with a wink. “This isn’t about him anyway, Annie. It’s about _you,_ and what you want. Do you want to pretend nothing has changed?”

 _Mercie has a point,_ Annette thought. She frowned into her teacup and watched the little bubbles gathering around the edge. _I don’t want to pretend nothing has changed._

“Besides,” Mercedes added. “If anyone can give Felix a run for his money for being stubborn, there’s no one better suited for the task than you, Annie!”

Annette laughed heartily for the first time in a long time. “Oh, Mercie,” she giggled, nearly spilling tea all over her comforter. “Thank you. You’re right, sulking isn’t like me at all. I’ve never given up on anything before.” She paused to sip her tea. “It’s not like I have anything to lose.”

“It’s still early,” Mercedes said mischievously. The sun was bright in the sky above, and for once it wasn’t snowing. “I have it on good authority that Felix is closeted away with his father and will be for some time yet. Plenty of time to prepare an invitation, if you take my meaning.”

“Mercie!” Annette laughed, half scandalized and half amused. “I never realized what a devilish streak you had!”

“Nonsense,” Mercedes replied as she rifled through Annette’s desk for a blank piece of parchment and a quill. “I’m merely doing the Goddess’ work.”

\---

_Meet me at the hanging balcony at the eleventh bell this evening._

Annette had drawn her hood up over her head to hide her orange hair in the moonlight, not that she expected Felix to be surprised that she was here, if he came at all. He would recognize her handwriting, but the hood gave a dramatic effect for her appearance. She had rehearsed a speech for when he arrived, but her heart was starting to beat painfully in her chest and her stomach was full of butterflies, so she whispered it under her breath while she waited. It didn’t calm her nerves, but she was worried about forgetting the words and singing would only have distracted her from her true purpose.

 _What if he doesn’t show?_ Annette fretted, pacing nervously across the length of the balcony. _I guess it’s back to the drawing board._

The sound of the clanging bell broke the still night and Annette jumped at the noise, nearly plunging into the pond as she struggled to regain her balance. She felt a firm grip on her wrist steady her flailing arms and pull her away from the edge. 

“Felix!” she yelped, yanking her wrist out of his hand and stepping back. “You came!”

“Well, you didn’t leave much room for declining in your note,” Felix muttered, shuffling uncomfortably and trying to avoid her eyes. “So, I thought…”

What exactly Felix had thought remained a mystery as he let the sentence die and refused to say more. Annette pushed the hood of her cloak back and shook out her hair to give her a moment to collect her thoughts. Asking him to meet her here was one thing and actually meeting him was another entirely. He looked as unfairly handsome at nighttime as he did in the daylight, and it did nothing to help her focus on the task at hand. She cleared her throat noisily and folded her arms across her chest, hoping desperately that it made her look more intimidating. 

“So I…” Annette began, stumbling over her carefully prepared speech. “Well…”

Felix was looking at her now, one dark eyebrow arched expectantly.

“Well…I wanted to talk,” Annette finished lamely. 

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out,” Felix said with a hint of his old sarcasm. He paused and sighed heavily, shaking his own head. “Look, Annette…what happened the other day…it was…”

“Delightful,” Annette supplied tartly. 

“Wrong,” Felix finished. 

“Wrong?” Annette repeated sharply. “There was nothing wrong with wanting to—”

“Yes, there is,” Felix interrupted loudly. “We can’t do this. There’s no future with me.”

Annette threw her arms up in the air and flounced away to the edge of the pond she’d almost fallen into just a few minutes earlier. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she scoffed. “ _That’s_ the best excuse you could come up with for why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“It’s not an excuse,” Felix growled, crossing his arms defiantly. “It’s the truth. I’m not putting you through what Ingrid went through when Glenn died.”

“ _You’re_ alive,” Annette snapped, not turning to face him. “You’re not Glenn and I’m not Ingrid. That has nothing to do with us.”

“The chances of my living through this ridiculous war are slim at best,” Felix countered angrily. His eyes were bright in the moonlight, willing her to understand. “We’re outnumbered and I’m constantly on the frontlines. Soon enough, there’s bound to be an attack that I can’t dodge in time, or too many enemies for me to handle alone.”

“Then why don’t you let me help you!” Annette shouted, spinning to face him. This was not anything like what she’d planned on saying, but she couldn’t even remember what her speech was about anymore. “You always think you’re better off alone, but you go and tell _me_ to rely on others? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“You’d be in more danger than you already are!” Felix yelled back, stepping closer and putting both hands on her shoulders. His amber eyes were blazing with a desperation for her to understand. “It’s better if we have nothing to do with each other. You’ll be happier without me.” 

“Who are you to decide what will make me happy?” Annette snarled, her blue eyes flashing like daggers and poking him in the chest for emphasis. “Only _I_ can decide that. And I’ve decided that _you_ make me happy.” 

Felix had no immediate reply to this declaration. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned away, bringing a hand across his face. Annette took a deep breath to calm her breathing and clear her head, watching the way his shoulders slumped miserably. He looked frail and young, younger than he usually appeared. Felix was always so sure of himself, and he did everything in his life with an air of certainty that belied his age. 

Nothing had happened as she had planned for so far. Annette had thought she would confront him about how he’d been avoiding her and then tell him that she loved him and that she wasn’t going to accept the reality that he insisted had to be. It was supposed to be an easy conversation, quick and relatively painless. 

_But love isn’t like that,_ she thought, turning to a bench on the far side of the balcony. _Love hurts sometimes. It needs to balance out the wonder with the pain, or it isn’t really love._

“Felix, won’t you come sit with me?” Annette said more gently as she arranged her cloak around her knees. She patted the empty space beside her. “Please?”

He didn’t move right away, standing still in the moonlight as the wind teased the loose strands of his hair. Annette waited patiently with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes closed. She could hear his boots moving across the stone and felt his presence as he sat beside her, not quite closely enough for their shoulders to brush. They sat in silence for several minutes with only the sound of the rippling water to break the stillness of the night. Even their shouting seemed to be a thing of the past. 

“I don’t want to fight,” Annette said at last. “I had a whole speech prepared for this and I’ve forgotten all of it.”

She heard him chuckle beside her. “That’s not like you,” he murmured. “You’ve never forgotten anything you’ve practiced before.”

“Nor have you,” she said quietly, opening her eyes and turning her head to consider him. 

“No,” Felix agreed. “And I won’t.”

They sat in silence again and Annette wondered whether this had been a good idea after all. She was acutely aware of the way her heart was beating in her chest, too fast and too erratic. His hands were loose beside him and she knew that it would be so easy to just reach out and lace her fingers between his, tying them together even for just a moment. Tightening her hands in her lap, Annette forced herself to remain still. 

“The reason I asked you to come here is because I wanted to tell you that I don’t want you to avoid me because of what happened,” Annette said quietly. 

It wasn’t why she had asked him to meet her, and it wasn’t what she really wanted to say. But this was easier than telling Felix that she loved him. She didn’t want to listen to him repeat how there was nothing between them, that they would never have a future together. She didn’t want to hear him say that he didn’t share the same feelings, that it had been a mistake to become so close. Sometimes, it was easier speak in riddles and half-truths than to face the reality of the situation, if it would allow things to remain the way they were. 

_Things will never be the same again,_ Annette reflected as she watched the moon shining in the sky above them. _But we can pretend, if only so that we don’t lose everything we already have._

“All right,” Felix said. His voice was deep and soft, and Annette thought he sounded unsure of what he was saying. “I won’t.”

“We can still be friends,” she said gently, not looking at him. She wondered if everyone struggled like this in love. The words hurt as she spoke. “There doesn’t have to be…anything else.”

“Annette…”

“Don’t say it again,” Annette interrupted, standing abruptly and walking to lean against the stone balustrade overlooking the courtyard far below. She could feel the cool wind brushing through her hair and twirling it gently around her face. “I understand that there probably can’t be anything else. I’ve always known that. So, don’t say it again.”

Felix didn’t say anything. She heard his cloak rustle as he rose from the bench and came to lean against the cold stone beside her, regarding the moon hanging in the night sky. They stood apart, far enough that they could not accidentally brush their hands together or bump their shoulders. Mercedes had said that Felix was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back again if they were alone, but Annette thought it must be her who was finding that the most difficult. She wanted nothing more than to shake him until he listened to her and convince him that he was being foolish. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, and how long she had felt that way.

She wanted to finish the kiss he had started. 

“Friends…” Felix murmured. He was watching the sky still, but his eyes looked distant. “I told you before that I’m not fun to be around. I’ve even hurt you before. But you said I…” he trailed off and sighed. “Trust me when I say I want to be with you. Why would you want to be...?”

“I trust you,” Annette said simply. “Everyone starts as friends, and friends hurt each other. But they don’t give up, and they don’t abandon each other.”

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Felix said astutely. He turned to look at her, and Annette found herself struggling to look away now. She felt like there was a magnetic pull from him, holding her gaze in place. If she gave in to it, she probably _would_ finish the kiss they’d almost shared. “You’re not giving up, even after everything I’ve told you.”

“That’s right,” she said, smiling even though it hurt. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll wait for you, for when you’re ready.”

“You’ll just end up hurt again,” Felix went on harshly. He was frowning at her now, his voice deadly serious. “The same way Ingrid was when—”

Annette laid a finger against his lips and Felix’s voice faded into nothingness. 

“You weren’t listening,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m not Ingrid. I appreciate your concern for my happiness, but I know what I’m doing. I’m not afraid of getting hurt, or I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”  


With that said, Annette leaned forward on the tips of her toes, pressing her lips gently to Felix’s cheek before she turned and left him standing alone in the cold night.

\---

The council chamber was too stuffy in the afternoon sun. 

Annette was doodling on the edges of the blank piece of parchment that she had brought to take notes on but found her focus wandering too much to do it properly. Little musical notes dotted the edges of the paper interspersed with imaginary flowers and teeny little cakes. Mercedes had noticed her inattention, but she only smiled and added her own stylized depiction of a sun to the edge closest to her. No one was paying her any heed; she only needed to know what they decided on, and to follow orders. 

“Are you familiar with the geography of Fódlan, Professor?” Lord Rodrigue was asking in his voice that so resembled his son’s. He had joined their last two meetings since returning to Garreg Mach after the battle at Ailell, and Annette thought that, on the whole, he seemed like a kind person.

“Not terribly familiar,” she replied, shaking her head slowly. “My memory is especially fuzzy over the changes that have happened to borders and such since the Battle of Garreg Mach five years ago.”

“It is no matter,” Lord Rodrigue assured her with a smile. “The main thing to keep in mind is that the Oghma Mountains separate the Empire and the Kingdom, and they are nigh impassable for an army of our size.”

“We would either need to move around them to the east this way through Faerghus,” Gilbert added, tracing his finger across a map that was spread out on the table. “Or go to the west and pass through Alliance territory.”

“Going east will be difficult,” Annette interjected, momentarily drawn into the conversation with the mention of the eastern territories. “Nearly all of the lords there have bent knee to the Empire, and we’ll attract the attention of the Imperial army immediately. They’ll engage us before we get anywhere near Enbarr.”

“She’s right,” Lord Rodrigue agreed, nodding at Annette and smiling. “It would be unwise to go east, I think.”

“There has been infighting within the Alliance for years now between factions who support the Empire and those who do not,” Gilbert added with a decidedly stony look. “They are primarily led by House Gloucester and House Riegan, respectively.”

Professor Byleth nodded in understanding and peered at the map. “So, you’re saying we should go this way,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map that was marked with a crossing symbol. “Am I correct?”

Lord Rodrigue nodded, clearly pleased with her quick uptake. “Yes, that is the Great Bridge of Myrddin,” he said as Annette dropped her eyes back down to the parchment in front of her and drew some intricate squiggly lines between the other pictures. “It is closest to our position, and it will provide the most direct route south to Enbarr from where we are now.”

“The terrain will make for easy passage as well,” Ingrid pointed out. “Going directly south will be slower due to the mountainous regions in the area. Not to mention,” she added as an afterthought. “The Empire will be watching for us to do just that, especially now that they know we’re here.”

“I see one major flaw with this plan,” Professor Byleth said with a frown at Gilbert and Lord Rodrigue. “What happens if the Empire and the Alliance both attack? We can’t afford to be caught in the middle of two armies.”

“That is indeed a possibility,” Gilbert replied. Annette glanced up at him from across the table, catching the tone of resignation in his voice. He caught her eye and his face seemed to soften just a little. “However, it is the best option we have right now. Perhaps if we contact House Riegan, we can obtain their assistance in safely crossing.”

“It is probable,” Lord Rodrigue agreed. “Claude leads House Riegan. He has been firmly and vocally against the Empire since the very beginning of the war.”

“So, you’re hoping he’ll be a friend,” Felix grunted moodily. Annette glanced up from her doodling again to regard him. He’d been moody ever since she confronted him, but he hadn’t been avoiding her. He would speak cordially, if a little stiffly, clearly unsure of how to act around her now that she’d made it clear how she felt. “He’s a man known to value manipulation above all else in politics. How can we be sure he won’t turn on us?”

“You make a valid point, Felix. Claude is a wise leader,” Lord Rodrigue argued back calmly. He regarded Felix with a look of pride in his eyes, though his son didn’t notice, choosing instead to glance at Annette and then away again. “Turning on us would hurt his own chances of withstanding the pressure that is on the Alliance to unify against the Empire themselves. It is in his best interest to ally with us in this.”

Dimitri paced over to the table from where he had been standing by the windows. “Are you suggesting we ask House Riegan to engage the Gloucester soldiers?” he rumbled. 

“Indeed,” Gilbert affirmed. He folded his arms across his broad chest. “If we can take the Bridge with Claude’s assistance in this, Gloucester will no longer be able to receive support from the Empire. It may lead to an Alliance unification against the Empire, and therefore an alliance with us.”

Dimitri stared at the map for a moment. Annette set her quill down and watched him thoughtfully, wondering vaguely how he could seem so normal one moment and yet become so violent at the drop of a hat. There were dark circles under his eyes that gave his face the appearance of very gaunt skeleton that had skin stretched awkwardly over the bones. 

_He is suffering so much,_ Annette thought sadly. _No one is made to carry the amount of pain all on their own._

“Once we take the Bridge, we cross Gronder Field and march south to Enbarr,” he said more quietly than Annette expected. “It is a sound plan.”

“But…” Ashe said in a rather high-pitched voice. “If we _are_ attacked from both sides, we’ll have to fight people from the Alliance, right?”

“I wonder how Lorenz is doing,” Mercedes added thoughtfully. “It must be difficult for him, too.”

“I’d rather not have to meet him on the battlefield,” Annette murmured. The thought was distressing, like an itch that would not quite go away no matter how hard she scratched it. So far, they had avoided facing former friends and classmates, though even Annette knew there was no hope of doing so forever. It was war, after all. “He is proficient with magic as well as the lance. I would hate to fight against a former classmate.”

“You must be ready for it in any case,” Felix said firmly, though his tone was not unkind. He watched her from across the table and Annette offered a weak smile. “You cannot hesitate to cut him down if your life is threatened.”

“I know,” she said, noticing Lord Rodrigue watching her with a look of interest plainly written on his features. “But I’d rather not all the same.”

“It is time we made our final preparations,” Dimitri cut in harshly. His one eye glinted dangerously as he surveyed the map one final time. “It is past time that we separated that woman from her head.”

Several people exchanged uncomfortable glances at this pronouncement. Dimitri did not seem to notice, instead turning briskly and striding out of the room. Professor Byleth followed him with her eyes and sighed heavily as his heavy cape disappeared out the door. Annette thought she also looked rather more tired than usual, and her green eyes always seemed to find Dimitri when they were gathered together. It wasn’t that she didn’t pay attention to anyone else but rather that she seemed to worry more for the prince than the others. 

_I suppose that makes sense,_ Annette decided as she stood from her chair and stretched her arms above her head. People were filing out in twos and threes as she collected her handful of possessions and waved goodbye to Mercedes. _He needs more support than the rest of us, and she might be one of the only people who can get through to him._

“Miss Dominic,” came a familiar voice from beside her. “Those are lovely drawings. You have quite the talent.”

Annette was so startled that she nearly dropped all her things onto the ground. “My Lord Fraldarius,” she stammered in surprise, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not pay attention to the meeting—”

Lord Rodrigue merely laughed. “Oh, I’m not admonishing you,” he said kindly. “It was a genuine compliment. My wife was an avid artist in her time, and it’s been many years since I’ve met anyone with any modicum of her talent.”

“Is that right?” Annette replied. She felt flustered at being addressed so directly by Felix’s father which was made no easier when the man himself appeared at Lord Rodrigue’s shoulder. He had a dark look painted across his features and shifted his eyes between them several times as if he was trying to piece together what they were discussing.

“Why are you bothering Annette, old man?” he asked sharply. He glared at his father so intensely that Annette was surprised Lord Rodrigue didn’t react to his gaze. “I thought we had an appointment in the training grounds.”

“I was under the impression we had rescheduled that for tomorrow afternoon,” Lord Rodrigue said mildly. There was a twinkle in his eye that Annette found distinctly unsettling. “Didn’t you say something about—”

“I’d rather get it done today after all,” Felix interrupted. His face was going slightly pink and he was trying very hard not to look at her now. Annette would have found the whole thing amusing if she wasn’t caught so off-guard. 

“I suppose I can fit it in my schedule,” Lord Rodrigue said with a smile. “As soon as I have finished my conversation with Miss Dominic. Perhaps you can go ahead and prepare our weapons?”

It was a clear dismissal no matter how pleasantly Lord Rodrigue spoke. Felix shifted his gaze between them once more and looked very much like he was weighing the possibility of further argument. Lord Rodrigue merely stared at him pointedly until Felix was forced into acquiescence. He self-consciously brushed a strand of loose hair over his ear and Annette was suddenly reminded of how she had impulsively kissed that cheek only a few nights before. She felt her own face going pink and glanced back down at the parchment in her hands in hopes of hiding it.

“Very well,” Felix finally grunted, nodding once at Lord Rodrigue. “Good day, Annette.”

“Oh, yes, um…see you later, Felix,” Annette replied anxiously. She was very aware of Lord Rodrigue’s gaze on them and wondered what else he could possibly have to discuss with her. Not only that, he seemed intent on speaking with her alone. It did not bode well in Annette’s experience.

“Apologies for that interruption,” Lord Rodrigue said after the door clicked shut behind Felix. “My son does not always show proper manners in front of a lady.”

“Oh,” Annette said. She wasn’t sure what to say. “He’s not so bad, really.”

“Is that so?” Lord Rodrigue asked interestedly. “I am glad to hear it. My elder son, Glenn, was much the same as Felix, always rather brash and ungentlemanly. It caused myself and my wife no shortage of frustration over the years. I do hope Felix hasn’t caused you any trouble.”

“Felix?” Annette repeated stupidly, completely unable to follow the line of Lord Rodrigue’s thoughts. “Not at all. He’s very kindly helped me out of a lot of sticky situations.”

Lord Rodrigue did not look terribly surprised to hear this. He smiled more widely and the twinkle was back in his eyes. Annette had the feeling she was being tested in some way, but she hadn’t the faintest idea of what his father hoped to gain by talking to her. Felix always spoke of his father as if he was horribly obstinate and difficult to get along with, but so far Annette thought he seemed quite courteous. Even during the war council, he had never spoken a in a way that belittled anyone’s ignorance or dismissed differing opinions out of hand. 

“I must confess I was curious to get to know you better,” Lord Rodrigue said at length. “I know your father well, but unfortunately we have not had the luxury of discussing family matters in the past. I understand from Felix, however, that you know each other quite well.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Annette nodded, feeling her face heat up to a light shade of pink again. “We went to school together—I mean you probably already knew that,” she added hastily as Lord Rodrigue nodded encouragingly at her. She inwardly cringed, remembering belatedly that she’d spent an evening meal at Castle Fraldarius five years ago and slept in his guest room. “Professor Byleth has us work together pretty frequently, and she asked me to teach Felix to use anima magic.”

Lord Rodrigue’s eyebrows had crawled so far up his forehead that they seemed to become a part of his hairline. “No wonder you seem so comfortable together,” he said thoughtfully. “I had noticed you two together recently, and I must confess I was _quite_ curious to know more about you. Felix has never shown much interest in spending time with anyone unless it was to spar.”

Annette searched her memories of the past several days as quickly as she could on the spot, trying desperately to think back to when Lord Rodrigue could possibly have seen them together. 

_There was the other day when we were cooking together in the dining hall,_ she thought, feeling more than a little panicked. _And he saw me struggling with taking some boxes from the greenhouse yesterday. Oh, and he did open the door for me before this meeting to let me enter first._

“I suppose,” Annette replied in a non-committal tone. She brushed a strand of hair over her ear and tried to relax, feeling her hands going clammy as she held her parchments closer to her chest. “We have been known to spar from time to time, to practice fighting against opponents we might struggle with…”

She let the thought trail off as she caught the inquisitive look from Lord Rodrigue, his dark eyes shining with interest. _Felix must have inherited his eyes from his mother,_ she thought vaguely as her face flushed again. _They’re nothing like Lord Rodrigue’s. His are guarded no matter the questions he asks, but Felix looks like he can stare into my soul._

“Do correct me if I am wrong, but it was you who was exchanging letters with Felix, is that right?” Lord Rodrigue asked pleasantly. 

“You knew about that?” Annette blurted out before she could think of a more appropriate response. 

“Certainly,” he replied with a chuckle. “I would be remiss with my own security if I did not know what passed through my gates.”

Annette wished very badly to know if he’d read any of her letters but could see no polite way to ask without seeming nosey. She regarded Lord Rodrigue’s face, noting how closely his features resembled Felix’s and trying to read the intentions behind his twinkling eyes. He seemed genuinely interested to speak with her, and Annette wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Felix never spoke of his father with much joy, generally focusing on how they didn’t get along and leaving the conversation at that. Yet, he seemed quite the opposite of how Felix portrayed him. 

“Right,” Annette said, shaking her head to bring her mind back to the present. “You’re correct, we did maintain a correspondence. I wrote to the others as well,” she added quickly. “I was quite far from everyone, so it was very kind of him to oblige me.”

“Felix has never written anyone,” Lord Rodrigue said. Annette didn’t think it was possible for his smile to get wider, but it somehow did. “I think it’s very good for him to have a friend outside of Ingrid and Sylvain who can offer a fresh perspective on the world.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” Annette replied after a moment. It was a bizarre conversation, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. She suspected that the longer they spoke, the more antsy Felix was becoming, and wondered if that was part of Rodrigue’s intention. 

Lord Rodrigue considered her for another moment before chuckling and moving to the side with a chivalrous bow. “I suppose I’ve taken enough of your time for one afternoon,” he said gently. “I appreciate your patience with my questions, Miss Dominic. As I’m sure you can guess, Felix does not speak to me much of his…friends.”

“The pleasure was mine,” Annette said automatically. She wasn’t sure if she’d passed whatever test Lord Rodrigue had set her, but he didn’t show any obvious signs of disliking her, so Annette deemed the conversation a success. “Felix has spoken of you often to me, but I’m afraid we’ve not had much chance to converse in the past.”

“A shame, truly,” Lord Rodrigue concurred, sounding like he meant it. “Perhaps we will have a chance to speak again soon, if you would humor an old man in this.”

“Of course, I would be delighted if time allows,” Annette smiled, feeling her face flushing slightly again. “Good afternoon, Lord Fraldarius.”

Annette could feel Lord Rodrigue’s dark eyes following her as she exited the council chamber and glanced over her shoulder. His smile had dissolved into a look of quiet contemplation, as though he was solving a puzzle that had been eluding him for some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really think Annette is a strong woman who wouldn't just take this ridiculous stance from Felix lying down! :) I didn't want to write a mopey Annette. There's enough other things to mope about than a man who's being a bit of an idiot about his feelings. Plus, she has Mercie to knock some sense into her and I don't think Mercie would let her just sit around being sad.
> 
> I also think Rodrigue would totally take the chance to get to know Annette because he's also not an idiot. He's got eyes after all LOL We'll see a bit more of him before the inevitable happens :( I hope you enjoyed this one. Thank you for reading and all of your lovely comments--you all make my day <3 I hope this could put a smile on your face!
> 
> Love, Kami


	27. Chasing the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: As per the tags, please note that there are Azure Moon-compliant deaths going forward as we canonically begin to encounter other students.

There was no sunlight as they marched through Alliance territory toward the Great Bridge of Myrddin. The Blue Lions were soaked through more than once as the rain poured down from the heavens, forcing their march to slow considerably as their wagons became stuck in the mud. Weather was a part of war that they could not control, and normally the delays wouldn’t have grated so heavily on Felix’s patience. But the longer they were on the road, the more time he spent near Annette, and this was proving to be a problem. Not because he didn’t _want_ to spend time with her (he did, despite how he couldn’t shake the determination that it would only hurt her more in the end) but because his father had been watching them closely ever since their last war council.

Lord Rodrigue had flatly refused to say what he’d spoken to Annette about in the council chamber, insisting that “it was none of Felix’s business” and that he “needn’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing.” But Felix always worried when things involved his father and found it distinctly unsettling that Annette seemed completely at ease throughout the journey, chattering away with anyone who would listen to her as though they were on their way to a picnic rather than a slaughter. He wasn’t entirely certain if she just hadn’t noticed his father’s eye on her or if she simply didn’t care; given her words on the rooftop to him, Felix thought it was the latter.

Remembering their rooftop conversation made Felix’s cheeks burn with the memory of Annette’s soft lips pressing gently against his skin. She’d smiled sadly, her eyes bright in the moonlight as she held back her tears and told him she would wait for him. He had watched her disappear into the darkness of the Monastery and wondered why on earth she had chosen _him_ when she could have had her pick of anyone else in the world. Annette was as bright as the sun and people gravitated toward her, basking in her love and her joy, allowing themselves to forget even for a moment that they were living through hell on earth. 

Perhaps that was why Felix craved her touch so much, and why he sought her out without even realizing that was what he was doing. He could still hear her voice during battle, while he trained, and when he slept. He desperately wanted to believe that there was hope in this world, that the sun would rise and bring a new dawn without the blood and stench of war. He wanted to take the hope she offered him and revel in it, lose himself in her arms and her scent. He wished he had Annette’s strength to allow himself to believe in the hope she clung to so fiercely. The hope that her father would return home, the hope that Felix would one day love her, and the hope that they would all come through this war whole and unscathed.

_There was no hope for Glenn,_ Felix thought, gripping the reins of his black horse as if they would keep him grounded in reality. He tried not to lose himself in the sound of her laughter as she rode alongside Ashe and tried not to wonder what he could have said to make her happy. Felix wasn’t good at making people happy. _Love of Ingrid didn’t stop him from dying. It didn’t bring him back either._

“So, did you two like…make up?” Sylvain asked hesitantly from beside him. He was watching Annette and Ashe too, poorly hiding his anxiousness for a positive response. 

“Sort of,” Felix muttered. He didn’t want to tell Sylvain about how she’d kissed him or what she had said under the moonlight. It was selfish and sentimental, but Felix wanted to hoard that knowledge to himself. “We…came to an understanding.”

Sylvain glanced at Felix to gauge how much of what he said was true. 

“So…you’re going to—”

“No,” Felix cut him off harshly, shaking his head. He pushed away the words that Annette had spoken, the way she’d assured him she would wait. “No. We’re not.”

“Why in the name of Nemesis’ sagging—” Sylvain swore, his voice creeping dangerously higher in his frustration. 

“Sylvain, please restrain yourself,” Felix snapped as Annette and Ashe glanced back at them curiously. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It is, though,” Sylvain argued. He dropped his voice back down to a reasonable volume, flashing an awkward grin towards the others and waving away their quizzical looks. “You’re my best friend. I’m just looking out for your best interests.”

“And I’m looking out for hers,” Felix said. “A relationship between us would only bring her pain.”

_I’m not afraid of getting hurt, or I wouldn’t be here with you right now._

Annette’s words echoed through Felix’s head. She was hurting already, and he hated to hurt her. The fear of causing her more pain was unbearable, but it was necessary; it didn’t matter that he was hurting himself by denying what they both wanted. The hope she clung to and the hope she so firmly believed in was so fragile, and Felix wanted to preserve that beautiful innocence for as long as possible. It was war, one that they could not possibly win, and Felix harboured no doubts that he was more than likely to die in battle before it was over. 

_Annette knows that this is war,_ a small voice reminded him. _She understands the stakes as much as anyone._

“People aren’t meant to be alone,” Sylvain said in a surprisingly sad tone. “Everyone wants to be someone’s someone, you know? People crave the love of others to keep the pain of living at bay.”

“You’ve slept with nearly every woman in Garreg Mach and across Faerghus,” Felix pointed out sourly. “I’m surprised you haven’t satisfied that craving by now.”

Sylvain shook his head and laughed harshly. The bitterness in Sylvain’s voice made Felix rein in his horse and stare at his friend in surprise. It wasn’t like him to drop his carefree persona during a march like this, or anywhere else. It was his armor as much as his carousing ever was. 

“A night’s sexual gratification isn’t love, Felix,” Sylvain said bitterly. He glanced up into the cloudy sky as the contingent of pegasus knights circled above them. “You have a chance to accept the unconditional love of someone who wants to be with you for who you are, and you’re insisting it’s better to throw that away because you’re afraid of losing that love yourself.”

The words stung harder than Felix was prepared for, and he didn’t know how to respond. Sylvain was more perceptive than he let on, and whole lot more bitter than he pretended to be, but it wasn’t often that he spoke so openly of love. He was still staring at the circling knights above them, watching the way they swooped in complex arcs and loops, trailing loose feathers and clouds behind them. 

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Felix said bluntly. He watched the knights above them too, easily picking out Ingrid from the way she held her posture in the saddle. 

“Yeah,” Sylvain admitted unabashedly. “If I had what you had…I’d never let her go.”

They rode in silence as the Great Bridge of Myrddin came into view ahead of them, the pale grey stone cold and forbidding. Annette’s orange hair bounced as she rode, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Ingrid’s golden hair was hidden under her helmet high above, but Felix could imagine little wisps of it poking out like sunlight after a storm. It struck him that Annette and Ingrid weren’t really so different at all; the women were so sure of what they wanted in life, never backing down from the challenges in their way. It was no wonder that men like Sylvain and himself were drawn to them, hoping that they could wash away all the pain and bitterness that they’d clung to for their whole lives. 

Why did it feel like the women they loved were always so far out of reach even when they were so close? 

“You should tell her,” Felix said at length. He was watching Annette now as she nudged her horse closer to Mercedes and leaned across its neck to whisper in her ear. He didn’t care what she was saying, but he longed to hear her voice in his own ear too. 

“Easier said than done,” Sylvain said quietly. He was watching Ingrid’s pegasus circle lower and lower in the sky. 

“I know,” Felix said, and he meant it. “Do it anyway.”

\---

Dimitri stared across the bridge with his one good eye and Felix felt an old familiar feeling of dread at the look. He seemed to resemble a walking corpse more and more, and the only sign of life in him came when he spoke of killing Edelgard. No one else seemed to ignite any true sense of vitality in him, not even the Professor and her increasingly desperate attempts to knock some sense back into his head. 

“So, they are expecting us,” Dimitri said slowly as he scanned the Imperial troops arrayed across the bridge ahead of them. “Well and good. I will kill every last one of them.”

“That is not necessary,” Professor Byleth cut in, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him. “We can win this battle without undue losses on either side. Taking prisoners and ransoming them back to their families will do us better than killing them.”

“Perhaps,” Dimitri said stoically. “But revenge is sweeter. The dead crave it as much as the living.”

“You’re wasting your breath, Professor,” Felix said with a disgusted look at the prince. “You can’t gain anything by talking to a rabid animal like him. He’s forgotten what it’s like to be human.”

He could feel the others watching him closely. His father was observing the conversation with a stormy expression, and Felix knew he would jump in soon too, and probably disagree with the words Felix spat out. It needed to be said aloud, though; someone needed to acknowledge the folly of the boar prince.

“This is war,” he continued coldly, holding Dimitri’s gaze fearlessly. “Every one of us has lost someone we loved. Yet none of us have given in to the pain and succumbed to madness.”

“It’s pointless to give in to the pain,” Professor Byleth agreed. 

“Indeed,” Felix nodded once and glanced back at Dimitri. “All he’s doing is making more corpses and waiting for each of us to fall so he can blame himself for our deaths too. It is utterly sickening.”

“If that is what you think,” Dimitri spat, the savage fire of despair burning brightly in his cold eye. “Then is it not also pointless to mourn or bury the dead?”

“If you can’t understand that, then you don’t deserve a response,” Felix growled, turning away. “It’s not because of you that we’ve come here on this mad venture. Regardless of whether we hate the Empire or support the Church, continuing on this path will inevitably lead us into oblivion.”

“Enough,” Lord Rodrigue finally interrupted, his sharp voice cutting through the argument like a knife. “You speak out of turn to your king.”

“My king,” Felix laughed pitilessly. “You’re a fool, old man. A boar is no king of mine.”

“We are ready to march,” Lord Rodrigue said to Dimitri, ignoring Felix. He was used to being ignored in favour of his father’s favourite other son. “On your orders.”

“We move out now,” Dimitri said at once. He strode past Lord Rodrigue and Sir Gilbert like they were nothing more than statues. “Professor, it is time.”

She sighed heavily, her green eyes distant and sad but waved the army forward, nonetheless, calling orders as the soldiers advanced to their positions. “Our usual formation,” she said with much less enthusiasm than usual. “Let us strive to end this quickly.”

“Are you ready?” Felix asked Annette as Professor Byleth walked away with Lord Rodrigue and Sir Gilbert on either side. He was proud that his voice was steady this time, having found it difficult to speak clearly as the memory of her kiss interrupted his thoughts at inconvenient times.

Annette drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” she said with a weak smile. “I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared. But I’m ready, even if it means I have to fight them.”

She pointed across the bridge and Felix followed the invisible line stretching from the tip of her finger. In the dull light of the day, Ferdinand von Aegir and Lorenz Hellman Gloucester stood out like a pair of sore thumbs in gilded armor. It made Felix irrationally angry to see them dressed so, like war was nothing more than a pageant, a pleasant diversion before afternoon tea. He tightened his fingers around the hilt of his sword as the thrill of battle began to permeate his bones, the desire to fight and protect Annette taking over his instincts more than he ought to have allowed. Emotions were dangerous in battle, but the battered box he had hidden them in was long since broken.

They advanced forward with the main force, Felix fighting close by Dimitri and his father, fending off the waves of soldiers that were roaring wordlessly as they approached, a frenzy in their eyes. Dimitri roared back like a cornered animal, swinging Areadbhar wildly as he pushed through the fallen bodies around his feet, his eyes fixed on the commander at the far side of the bridge. More than once, Felix and Rodrigue had to move awkwardly out of position to avoid being hit by Dimitri’s increasingly uncoordinated attacks. 

“Stay back there,” Felix shouted over his shoulder to Annette as three soldiers fell in around him. “Don’t get too close to him!”

She shouted something in reply, but her words were lost in the din of battle as steel scraped against steel. Felix could feel something stab into his side just as the wind picked up around him and tossed one of his assailants against the stone wall. He could hear the horrible sound of bones breaking and the man screaming, but there was no time to think about it or to feel any pity. There were still two opponents and Felix couldn’t afford to be hit again. He forced them away with his sword and lunged forward as they fell off balance, roaring wordlessly himself.

Dimitri had gotten further ahead now, outside of the range of protection that either Felix or Lord Rodrigue could provide. Ingrid wheeled above him in useless circles, unable to swoop lower where the archers could shoot her down. Sylvain was trying to force his horse through a knot of soldiers with the Professor, but they were being held back by too many soldiers to make any progress. It was like a scene from the legends of Loog, except that the king leading them was mad and surrounded by more enemies than he could possibly hope to overcome alone. 

_Some shield I am,_ Felix thought, stabbing his sword roughly into the chest of a woman who looked no older than himself. _A shield can’t protect someone who doesn’t want protection._

Annette screamed from behind him and Felix whirled around on instinct, bloody sword held aloft as he sprang back toward her. He reached her side in only four long strides, belatedly realizing she wasn’t in any immediate danger despite the blood covering her dress. 

“What’s wrong?” he demanded breathlessly, scanning the area for enemies. 

“Look!” Annette said instead, excitement and wonder lighting up her sweat-soaked face. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, the horror of battle forgotten as she pointed toward the end of the bridge. “He’s here! He’s not dead after all!”

Felix looked obediently, still half-crouched in a defensive position at her side. A lone man was running toward them, bulky and armoured with sharp gauntlets that glinted dully. Felix’s eyes widened as the man approached, his feet pounding loudly against the stone beneath them. His eyes slid over them as he passed but he said nothing, focused entirely on reaching Dimitri’s side, the place he had always been. Annette watched him pass with awe, her lips parted as she cheered.

“We’re all back now,” she grinned at Felix, springing forward after Dedue. Felix wondered how she could smile so happily as they fought, how she could find hope in the survival of a lone classmate when they were about to fight and kill others. He supposed it didn’t matter; her obvious joy was contagious, and even he had to crack a smile for it. “We all kept our promise! There’s no way we can lose now.”

“I hope you’re right,” Felix replied. He sped past her down a side path, dodging the corpses that lined the way. “Let’s take down that puffed up bird over there before he causes the boar more trouble.”

Ferdinand had already retreated from the battle—Felix figured he was under orders from Edelgard not to die here—but Lorenz was still fighting, and he was formidable enough that he’d already felled a squadron of Fraldarius soldiers. Annette hadn’t been kidding when she said he was proficient with both lance and magic; his lance and ridiculous armour were spattered with dark blood. 

“So, you will be next to die to my lance, Felix Fraldarius,” Lorenz said with an air of amusement. His ridiculously long bangs swung against the side of his face as he laughed. “I would apologize for killing your soldiers if this weren’t war. Alas, but you’ve sided with the losers in this conflict.”

“Lorenz!” Annette shouted, stepping up beside Felix despite the danger. “We don’t want to fight you. Please, take your men and leave this place!”

“Dear Annette,” Lorenz said with mock politeness. His expression was resolute as he saw the fierce glow in her blue eyes, though his amused smirk stayed firmly in place. “You know I can’t do that. It’s a matter of honour, and it would be most un-noble of me to turn tail and run away.”

“So, you’d rather kill your friends than flee?” Annette demanded, her voice scathing and angry. 

“My sweet, naïve Annette,” Lorenz replied in an affronted tone. “My friends are in the Empire. Surely you understand. Leaving now would only mean they hunt me down for desertion.”

“You can join us—” she began even as Lorenz was shaking his head.

“You’re too nice,” he said, nudging his horse forward. Felix stepped in front of Annette, his sword angled to deflect the lance. “I’ve made my choice. You’d do well to learn from Felix here, and show no mercy to your enemies.”

“I suggest you cease talking,” Felix growled in a low voice. “Enjoy your last breath in this world in silence.”

He leaped toward Lorenz as fast as a viper, his Crest of Fraldarius activating as the sword caught Lorenz’s steed in the shoulder. It screamed in pain and thrashed madly, throwing Lorenz off its back as it fell to the ground in a growing pool of blood. Lorenz landed awkwardly on the ground but stood quickly and levelled his lance toward Annette who stood with her hands outstretched. His mouth curved into a dangerous smile. 

Lorenz was faster than his bulky armour suggested. He darted forward with the lance and Annette twirled away as fast as her feet would carry her, spinning in a whirl of orange and white and red. Wisps of wind blades were gathering at her fingertips and growing in force as she launched her spell at the knight. His armour was designed to deflect magic, however, and most of her spell battered uselessly against it. 

Felix took the opportunity that Lorenz’s turned back presented to rush forward and attack again. He brought his sword upward under the man’s arm, hacking away the thin leather straps that held his armour in place. Pieces covering his lance arm clattered to the ground and rolled away and he turned and swung the lance toward Felix, a savage look in his eyes. He dodged backward, careful to keep Lorenz in his vision, watching for a sign of when he was about to strike. 

_She can’t take a hit from that lance,_ Felix thought, growling low in his throat as he dropped into an offensive stance. _She doesn’t have enough armour to withstand it._

Lorenz seemed to decide that Felix was the bigger threat and ran forward with the lance poised to strike. Felix met him halfway, raising his sword to deflect the downward swing that the other man threw at him. 

“Funny, I never pegged you for the sentimental type,” Lorenz breathed across their locked weapons. 

“Funny, I always pegged you for a pompous idiot,” Felix shot back, a slightly manic grin splitting his face. “You should have escaped when Annette told you to go.”

The wind had picked up around them, whipping Felix’s hair across his face and forcing him back. He disengaged from Lorenz and fell back, sword held loosely in his hand as the other man was lifted off the ground by the force of the gale Annette had summoned, numerous cuts appearing along his exposed arm and face, slicing deeply into his skin. He cried out in pain, dropping his lance and turning to face where she stood. His own fingers were curling into loose fists with little wisps of fire licking around his hand. The fire appeared in a ring around her feet, the flames crawling up her legs and burning her hands. 

She screamed and Felix saw red.

His sword was sinking into Lorenz’s back before he realized he had moved. Lorenz coughed up blood and fell to the ground limply, and Felix knew he was dead. The flames around Annette had winked out of existence, and she fell to her knees, breathless and burned. 

“Annette!” Felix skidded to a halt beside her, examining her hands and her exposed legs from where the fire had burned her dress away. 

“I’m fine,” she grunted, wincing with pain. “Damn, his magic is—was as strong as ever.”

“Can you heal those burns?” Felix demanded. 

She shook her head, orange hair falling across her eyes. “I can’t use white magic on myself. It’s a lot easier to do on someone else. Have you got any bandages?”

Felix dug through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled band of gauze and a half-used bottle of vulnerary ointment. Annette gingerly squeezed it into her palm and rubbed it gently over her skin, massaging it into her legs and sighing with satisfaction as it cooled her wounds. She wound the gauze over the worst of her burns and Felix tied it in place since her hands were too weak to make a proper knot. 

“Come on,” he said, slinging an arm around her waist and bringing hers over his shoulders. “Let’s get you to Mercedes so you can get back home in relative comfort.”

She smiled at him, as radiant and hopeful as if she hadn’t just been burned by someone she’d known and respected. 

“Thank you,” Annette said quietly, turning her eyes toward the distance again. “I don’t know if I could have fought him alone. It was hard to kill him.”

_No,_ Felix thought. He tightened his hand around her waist. _It was easy when he turned on you._

\---

The return to Garreg Mach was a bizarre affair, half-joyous from their victory and Dedue’s miraculous return and half-sombre from having to kill a former classmate. Annette rode in a wagon with Ingrid—who had been injured while airborne and fallen far enough to break several bones—and Mercedes who tended them both with all the loving care of a sister who wanted nothing more than to dote on them both. 

Sylvain and Felix had hung back behind the wagon and watched them laughing together from a distance, each of them wrapped up in their own heads. Once or twice, Annette would glance back and smile, and Felix’s heart would skip a beat in his chest. Ingrid looked back too, her eyes finding Sylvain’s until she finally looked away, her shoulders slumping against the side of the wagon. For his part, Sylvain seemed unsure whether he ought to go talk to her or not, eventually deciding it couldn’t hurt to wander over, leaving Felix to dwell on his thoughts alone.

Life at the Monastery was becoming busier as the months passed and the repairs proceeded on the broken walls and buildings. It felt livelier than it had in months as people returned, and the chores necessary to keep things running smoothly increased exponentially. There was little time to spend leisurely with friends, and Felix tried to convince himself that this was fine, indeed, that it was for the best. Professor Byleth often sent him out on scouting missions with Sylvain or Ingrid to survey the area surrounding Garreg Mach, leaving him exhausted upon each return and with minimal time to run into Annette.

_It’s better this way,_ Felix thought as he trudged into the knight’s hall to meet his father, returning to the Monastery after one such patrol not so long after the battle at the Bridge of Myrddin. _I’m not avoiding her if I’m not even here to see her. She can’t get mad about it when it’s the Professor’s orders._

Still, a selfish part of him wanted to see her even now, knowing it would only bring them pain and wondering if maybe the pain was worth it.

“Felix,” Lord Rodrigue waved him in genially and gestured to the couches by the blazing fire. “Thank you for coming to speak on such short notice.”

Felix sat on the couch opposite his father and laced his hands together over his knees. Lord Rodrigue’s face looked lined and gaunt, as if he hadn’t been sleeping as much as he ought to do. He didn’t see eye-to-eye with him on most things, but Felix couldn’t deny that his father was a skilled solider and that his tactical mind and battle prowess would be invaluable in the battles to come. It was worrisome that Lord Rodrigue was looking more bone-weary than when they had been fighting Cornelia’s forces on the edges of Fraldarius territory, and she’d caused enough sleepless nights for both of them as it were.

“It’s nothing,” Felix replied gruffly. “I was just on my way to report to Professor Byleth, but it can wait.”

“I wanted to commend your bravery during our last battle,” Lord Rodrigue said. He leaned forward on the couch and regarded Felix in silence for a moment. “You fought well to defend His Highness as well as your comrades.” 

“As is my duty,” Felix muttered, more to himself than his father. “Someone has to take the stakes seriously if he won’t.”

“I am loathed to admit it, but I do not know how to curb Dimitri’s desire for revenge,” Lord Rodrigue went on quietly. His eyes were pensive, and Felix realized why his father looked so exhausted. 

“You can’t,” Felix said bluntly. “It has consumed him. It would take something truly powerful to snap him back to reality.”

They lapsed back into silence, each contemplating the state of Dimitri’s mind and the possibility of bringing him back to his senses. Felix wasn’t convinced it was possible at this point, not after how long his old friend had been consumed by grief and rage. It had been festering within him since the Tragedy of Duscur and rotted his mind. Emotions were a danger, and Dimitri was a prime example of how they were more hindrance than help. 

_I could become like him,_ Felix reflected, glancing across the room at his father and meeting his tired gaze. _I must be careful not to become a boar myself._

“It is no matter, in the end,” Lord Rodrigue said at length, his voice resigned. “We have him back. That is the most important factor of all.”

“What good is he to anyone in this state?” Felix grumbled. “He’s a danger to himself and others. He’s going to get us all killed.”

“He’s the prince,” Lord Rodrigue said simply. “He’s the rallying point the people need to fight against the Empire.”

“He’s insane,” Felix said, his eyebrows rising. “No one will take him seriously, prince or not.”

Lord Rodrigue shook his head, smiling grimly at his son. The dark circles under his eyes seemed more prominent now and his hair hung limply around his face, giving him the appearance of a dying tree. 

“The people don’t know that, Felix,” Lord Rodrigue explained patiently. “Most of them will never get close enough to Dimitri to know what he has become. They will hear his name, see him leading an army, and they will _believe._ ”

“Rumors have been swirling about the boar for years,” Felix argued, the space between his eyebrows crinkling into a frown. “They’ll put two and two together.”

“He represents hope for Faerghus,” Lord Rodrigue said. “Rumours are just that—rumours. The masses will readily accept him and support him simply because of his name and his army. This is what we needed to make a real push in this war. New recruits are arriving daily to join our army because they know Dimitri is here and they believe he will bring their freedom.”

Felix was unconvinced that the people would be as blind as his father suggested, but there was truth to his words—many young men and women had been making their way to Garreg Mach and asking to join the army, and their ranks were beginning to swell because of that. Most of them were untrained peasants or lesser nobles with four or five siblings ahead of them without any real future. They would require training, but they didn’t have the time or resources to properly train them for battle. 

_Not that it matters,_ Felix thought, leaning back against the couch and staring down his nose toward his father. _None of them are meant to live through this. They’re just fodder for the better soldiers to advance behind._

“Incidentally,” Lord Rodrigue continued, oblivious to Felix’s inner monologue. He looked especially serious now, the warm glint in his eyes now gone. “I’ve given much thought to your request back in Ailell.”

Felix’s ears perked up and he fixed his father with a sharp gaze.

“And?” he asked, trying to keep his voice dispassionate. “You’ve arranged something?”

There was a pause before his father spoke, his mouth curving slightly at the corners.

“No,” Lord Rodrigue shook his head. “I’ve deemed it…inadvisable, for the moment anyway.”

Felix blinked slowly, not unlike a cat, and leaned forward in the couch. His eyes were as cold as steel. “Inadvisable?” he repeated suspiciously. “You’ve been hounding me about a betrothal since Glenn died. What’s changed?”

His father shrugged, watching him closely with his hollow face. “With Dimitri back, we should shift our focus to him as the central rallying point for the Kingdom army,” Lord Rodrigue said. “It would be unwise to take any attention away from His Highness by announcing a Fraldarius engagement.”

“Are you serious?” Felix asked in disbelief. It took him several moments to realize he was standing, his amber eyes wide and incredulous. “After all these years of begging me to agree to a betrothal, I finally give my consent, and you’re just…not going to do anything?”

_No betrothal,_ Felix thought wildly, his mind reeling from the sheer amount of implications this statement held. _It would have been the perfect way to force myself away from Annette, the easiest way to tell her not to wait because there would be nothing for which to wait anymore._

“Quite serious,” Lord Rodrigue affirmed. He watched Felix as though he could see the storm of thoughts rolling through his mind painted on his face and sighed heavily. “Felix, please listen to me. Do not mistake my decision—our family’s name depends on your marriage. My brother is in no condition to lead our family should I die. Therefore, it is of the utmost importance that you marry quickly and ensure that the Fraldarius bloodline continues.”

“Then why not arrange it?” Felix blurted out. He could feel his cheeks going red with the storm of emotions that were invading his mind and heart, but he didn’t have the energy to care about that. 

“I told you why. Although,” Lord Rodrigue added thoughtfully, stroking his chin slowly as he spoke. “I won’t deny a second motive. I fear that you would not be happy with anything that I would arrange for you.”

The silence in the room was utterly deafening. 

“Since when have you cared about _my_ happiness?” Felix finally managed through gritted teeth. 

The two men stared at each other in silence again, the words hanging in the air between them. It was cruel to say aloud, but Felix had never considered himself to be kind. He was full of sharp edges and bitterness, the last and least important of Lord Fraldarius’ three children. Glenn was the oldest and best, the shining star of the family with a bright smile and positively infectious desire to be a hero. Dimitri was the orphaned son of his father’s best friend, scarred and scared, and in need of a loving family during the most tumultuous time of his young life. Felix was always the forgotten one, the youngest and most single-minded, pursuing his skill with a blade in hopes of impressing a father who only had eyes for the others. 

“Not nearly as often as I ought to have done,” Lord Rodrigue replied quietly, sounding more like an old man than ever before. His eyes were full of regret and his voice was coarse with raw emotion. “I have learned too little, too late. I am sorry, my son.”

Felix could not remember hearing his father ever apologizing to him. He stood dumbfounded, unable to process enough words to form a coherent sentence. He didn’t even know how he wanted to respond—with a ‘thank you’ or a ‘no kidding’? 

“I have been reflecting on your mother lately,” Lord Rodrigue continued into the silence. The fire crackled merrily on the hearth, warming the room that suddenly felt too stuffy. “She would never have forgiven me for what I said to you when Glenn died. Perhaps if she had been with us, things would never have come to this.”

“I can’t remember her,” Felix muttered, flopping back onto the couch because his legs couldn’t support his weight any longer. “Not well anymore.”

“I’m not surprised,” Lord Rodrigue said with a bleak smile. “You were too young when she died. She was the light of the household, always painting and gardening. She loved fiercely, and I never saw her happier than when she looked upon you or Glenn.” He paused again and sighed heavily, glancing down at his feet. His voice remained steady despite how his shoulders shook. “I have been wondering what she would do in my place, were she still here with us.”

Felix could not remember seeing his father so overcome with pain and sorrow since Glenn’s death and the announcement of Dimitri’s execution. It was a trait father and son shared, hiding their feelings so that the other would never see them suffering. 

“So, you think she wouldn’t have arranged something?” Felix asked after a time. His voice was carefully controlled to keep the edge out of the words. 

“She would have done it years ago,” Lord Rodrigue said gently. “But she would have found a way to ensure that you would be happy because it is the only thing that she ever wanted for both her sons.” 

Felix had no response for this, so he waited in silence for his father to speak again. Ingrid had asked him when they last spoke openly to each other, and Felix had had no answer to that. Now that they were having a real heart-to-heart, he didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Everything was moving too quickly, and Felix realized he was more than a little bit hopeful of where this conversation was going. The hope itself scared him more than anything his father had yet revealed.

“I do want you to marry, and marry well,” Lord Rodrigue said, raising his dark eyes to meet Felix’s. “But I want you to be happy too. So, I won’t arrange anything until this war is over, and consult with you again at that time.”

“What if you die?” Felix asked roughly, his eyes narrowing and his fingers digging into his knees as he forced himself to remain calm. 

Lord Rodrigue smiled a real smile for the first time that evening.

“Then I trust you to make the right decision for our family and for your own happiness.”

\---

Felix’s mind was still reeling as he trudged up the stairs leading to the second floor of Garreg Mach to make his report to Professor Byleth. His father had never spoken so openly about his late wife or his regrets for their own strained relationship, and Felix wasn’t sure how to handle that. This would undoubtably change their relationship going forward, and the thought of it was a bit unsettling. How does a son who has never had a warm relationship with his father adjust to such a unilateral change? 

_Is it even possible?_ Felix wondered as he approached the door to the Captain’s Office that Professor Byleth had taken to using as her own. _Can my old man and I learn to get along after all these years?_

The door stood ajar, so Felix peeked inside, but the room was empty. A handful of papers were strewn haphazardly across her desk and a map with numerous coloured pegs pinned across the continent hung on the far wall. It was difficult to tell if she’d only recently vacated the room and would be returning, or if she’d been gone long enough that she wouldn’t be returning at all. He stood indecisively in the hall, debating whether or not he ought to go search for her or simply make the report the following morning when he was less exhausted. He supposed it wasn’t that urgent since there hadn’t been any sign of enemies closing in on their position anyway. 

_Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room!  
Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom!_

The familiar voice drifted through the halls and tickled Felix’s ears as he hovered outside the Captain’s Office. He paused mid-step as he turned to head back to his room and collapse into bed, the music rejuvenating his exhausted bones and infusing him with curiosity. It had been a long time since he’d happened upon Annette while she was singing, and he found it unbearably difficult to suppress the desire to go peek into the library. Not since the night he’d found her feeding newborn kittens in the kitchen and doting on the mother enough to make him jealous. 

_A flash and then a big boom!_

His feet were moving toward the sound of her voice of their own accord, but Felix didn’t have the strength to stop himself. It was as though the music was beckoning him closer through a magic all of its own. He’d dreamt of her voice and her face more often of late, and the memory of her lips against his skin startled him into wakefulness more times than he wanted to admit. He wanted to believe that it was best for them to stay apart, but that became more difficult with each passing day. She was too earnest, too beautiful, too captivating—Felix wanted her in his life more than anything so that he could bask in her unquenchable cheeriness, forever listening to the sound of her sweet voice.

_It can’t be like that,_ Felix though grimly as he rounded the corner into the library. _Not yet._

Lord Rodrigue hadn’t exactly said that he would approve of their relationship, but he hadn’t outright denied the possibility either. The conversation lit a cautious hope in Felix’s chest and he desperately wanted to hold onto it, to believe that a future between them was possible. He wasn’t used to having a hope of his own; his experiences with hope had always been second-hand through someone else.

The library was empty save for Annette and her song. She stood on the second floor with a duster in hand, twirling it around like a magic wand as she pranced and twirled from one bookcase to the next. There was something immensely satisfying about watching Annette while she was in her element, oblivious to his presence, carefree and happy even as she went about completing the most mundane chores. She could find joy in anything.

“If you blow up the library, where will we put the books?” Felix asked, striding into the centre of the room. He looked up at where she was dancing on the floor above and hoped that he hadn’t startled her.

“Felix!” Annette stumbled from what would have been a graceful pirouette and staggered forward toward him. Her blue eyes were wide, and her cheeks were slightly pink. Felix wasn’t sure whether that was from embarrassment or exertion. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard singing,” he replied truthfully. “I came to report to the Professor, but she wasn’t in her office.”

“So, you came to watch me again?” Annette demanded, leaning over the edge of railing so far that Felix was afraid she would tumble over it. “There’s nothing interesting about my dancing! In fact, it’s pretty embarrassing and I’d really rather you didn’t see it at all.”

“Your dancing is pretty impressive,” Felix replied, feeling his own face flushing. “You shouldn’t be dancing up there anyway. You could fall.”

Annette giggled and Felix felt his chest tighten at the sound. “I won’t fall,” she declared, stepping back from the edge and twirling once. “There’s a railing to protect me. Besides, if I fell, you would catch me.”

Felix watched as she turned back and used her feather-duster-turned-magic-wand to continue cleaning the bookshelves. Despite her protests, Annette seemed to have too much energy to keep herself from moving to an invisible beat, tapping her feet against the wooden floor and swaying her hips from side to side. Felix forced himself to look away as his face became slightly redder than before and was glad that Annette couldn’t see his expression from where she stood. 

“Oh, today of all days! I knew I should've chosen a different song...” Annette went on, more to herself than to Felix. 

“Like what?” Felix asked in spite of himself. Now that he was alone with her here, he was bursting with a desire to be nearer to Annette than he’d allowed himself since their almost-kiss. She’d led him here with her voice, whether she realized it or not, and Felix had been powerless to resist its pull. 

“Any of them! The box song!” Annette said decisively. She came back to the railing and peered at him suspiciously. “Or maybe the dungeon song!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Now _those_ sound interesting…”

Annette seemed to realize what she’d said and how those words could be misconstrued. Her face went red and she gaped at him like a fish out of water. Felix stared back at her, keeping his expression carefully innocent. She looked like she was trying to decide how to respond and draw attention away from the topic, but the longer she stayed silent, the more difficult it became. For once in his life, Felix found it difficult to keep himself from smiling for the sheer enjoyment of it all. 

“No, they're just regular songs!” Annette insisted somewhat desperately. “Oh, forget it. While you're here, can you help me clean up? I need the books on that shelf up there, but I can't reach them.”

She pointed to a shelf on the second floor with a number of books piled haphazardly on the edge. Felix was already climbing the stairs before she had even finished speaking and moving swiftly to the place that she had indicated. 

“Sure, no problem,” he said as he passed and mounted the rather rickety ladder. He glanced over his shoulder as he reached the top of the bookcase to see Annette staring at him intently, her face still looking rather pink. “Aren’t you going to sing anymore?”

Annette shook her head vigorously so that her orange hair swirled around her face and obscured her expression momentarily. “No way! That’s way too embarrassing. Besides,” she added in a small voice. “That song isn’t even finished yet.”

_I don’t care if it’s finished,_ Felix thought a little disappointedly as he reached for the pile of books and carefully began his descent. He heard Annette hurry forward as if she was afraid that he might drop them. _I just want to hear your voice._

“That’s too bad,” he said instead. He spoke quietly, wondering briefly if it was a mistake to admit how badly he wanted to hear her sing. He had been the one insisting that they distance themselves from each other precisely to avoid this kind of bonding. “I was wondering what happened after the library was blown away…”

Felix set the books on a nearby desk and looked over at Annette. They stood in silence for a moment until she finally looked away and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Her hair looked soft in the dim light of the library, and Felix wondered (not for the first time) how it would feel splayed across his chest and between his fingers. He tried not to let his mind wander further, knowing it was hardly the time for such desires. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Annette murmured, completely mistaking the path of his thoughts. “Okay, if you insist…I’ll sing just a bit more.”

“Really?” Felix asked a little too hopefully. He could feel his face starting to burn again but he could hardly believe his ears. _She said yes!_

Annette just flashed him a tiny smile and cleared her throat loudly. Felix hastily pulled out a chair from the desk and turned it to face her, his heart pounding hard in his chest with anticipation. She watched him closely as he settled himself in to listen, her blue eye betraying her anxiousness. It felt nearly as intimate as when he had almost kissed her despite how there were several feet separating them. 

“Oh, how I just love to clean,” Annette sang out, her voice wobbling a little self-consciously. She closed her eyes and began again, and this time her voice was both steadier and sweeter. “Clean the library room! Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes _boom!_ ”

Felix was completely enraptured by the sight of her standing before him, her hair slightly askew from her earlier dancing and her voice ringing pleasantly through the library. It seemed so normal to listen to her and simply enjoy the sound of her voice, to reflect on how beautiful she was when she let herself indulge in her passion for music. It made Felix’s stomach swoop with an almost primal desire to reach out and pull her close and never let her go. 

“A flash and then a big boom, suddenly the deed is done!” Annette continued, her voice rising as she reached the crescendo of her song. “My! What a great job I did! Who says cleaning isn't fun?”

She finished with another little twirl and opened her eyes hesitantly. She was staring at Felix expectantly and chewing absently on her bottom lip. 

“Huh,” Felix said a little belatedly, realizing he ought to commend her performance instead of staring at her like a lovesick idiot. “That doesn't really explain what happened with the library. Maybe they'll build a new one?”

Annette couldn’t quite stop herself from giggling at that. She turned away as her blush deepened, covering her face with her hands. “This is _so_ embarrassing,” she whispered through her fingers. “You’re really a villain, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Felix shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin. “But you did agree to sing. Thank you, Annette.”

“I suppose I did,” she agreed in a small voice. Annette glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Thanks for your help with the cleaning. It’s pretty late though, and you look exhausted. Shall we head back?”

The hope in Felix’s chest still hadn’t been extinguished and listening to Annette sing had only fanned the little flame into a real fire. He wondered if Lord Rodrigue would truly listen to him after the war was over and grant his blessing to a betrothal with Annette after all. It was possible—probable, even—after the conversation they had tonight. He sounded genuinely regretful for how their relationship had developed over the years, and he didn’t seem to dislike Annette. Felix supposed that wasn’t very surprising—there was nobody in the world who wouldn’t like her; she was the kindest and most loving person that Felix had ever met, selflessly giving anything she could to make others happy.

_If we make it through this war alive,_ Felix thought as he followed Annette down the stairs, smiling vaguely at the back of her head as the sound of her voice echoed in the back of his mind, _I won’t make her wait any longer. I won’t wait any longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry to all of you Lorenz fans out there :( I love his ridiculous personality, but unfortunately he ended up on the wrong side of the war and it fits the trajectory of this fic for him to die here. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill every student, but some are unavoidable. 
> 
> This chapter has a bit of angst and a bit of fluff, so I think it's a good balance before Lord Rodrigue's inevitable death :( And we got Dedue back! So hopefully that balances out Lorenz's death a little bit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one! Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	28. Under A Dark Sky

The weather was beginning to warm as Great Tree Moon wore on, a change for which Annette was grateful. She was finally able to hang up her thick winter cloak and scarf for good, opting instead for a lighter one in the evenings and finding that her capelet provided enough warmth for the daytime. The last little bits of snow that were still lingering on the grounds of Garreg Mach had finally begun to melt, allowing the grass and budding flowers to reach upwards toward the sunlight. Springtime was Annette’s favourite time of year because as the world woke from its long hibernation, new life burst forth from beneath the snow and ice to welcome a new dawn. 

She had been spending more time in the greenhouse lately, coaxing the plants to grow big and strong so that there would be plenty of food that they could use to feed their army. The fruits and vegetables were freshly planted, so it would be some time before they were ready to harvest but there was a large stockpile of fertilizers and manure to help cultivate them quickly. Annette was happy to spend her days gardening, singing all the while as her mother always did to encourage the plants to grow. It almost felt like the world was normal, that there was no war going on, and that she was merely a student again. It was a self-indulgent fantasy, but it helped keep her sane in the face of the horrors of war. 

Everyone had been struggling to come to terms with the realities of war. Annette hadn’t slept properly for nearly a week following Lorenz’s death at the Great Bridge of Myrddin no matter how many sleeping draughts she begged Mercedes to brew for her. She could still see his face in her mind when she closed her eyes, eyes rolling back in his head and slack jawed as he fell gracelessly to the ground, blood pooling around him. They hadn’t been friends really—merely acquaintances since their days at the Royal School of Sorcery—but Annette didn’t want to kill him. It was easier to kill people that you didn’t recognize because they lacked an emotional connection with you; they might have a family that would mourn them, but if you didn’t know that, it didn’t matter—they were merely an enemy in your way. 

“I knew Lorenz,” Annette murmured as she knelt beside Dedue. He had taken to joining her in the greenhouse from time to time, intent on assisting with the work required to feed the army, and he proved to be a good listener. “I can’t stop seeing his face when I go to sleep.”

Dedue worked silently, carefully spreading manure across the freshly planted bed of tomatoes. His face had been heavily scarred since she had last seen him in Fhirdiad before her uncle whisked her away back to the Dominic estate. Annette wanted to ask how he had acquired those marks but thought better of prying. He was a private man and soft-spoken; it felt wrong to ask him to relive the pain that he’d suffered these last five years, especially on top of the pain of losing his people that would surely haunt him to the end of his days. 

“I told him to escape,” Annette continued in a low voice. Her hands were shaky as she held the watering can over the plants. The water dripped off their leaves to soak the soil beneath like a surprisingly applicable metaphor for the tears Annette was trying not to indulge in. “But he refused. He could have lived if he’d gone.”

“Lorenz made his choice,” Dedue said unexpectedly. He hadn’t said very much while they worked, choosing to lend a listening ear to Annette’s words. He wasn’t a very talkative person, but when he spoke, it was always thoughtful. “You are not responsible for his decision.”

“If we had left him alone…” Annette began hesitantly. 

Dedue turned to look at her. His eyes were as compassionate as Mercedes’ ever were, but his voice was steady and pitiless. He had finished adding the manure to the plants and pulled off his gloves so that they could be rinsed. Annette still held the watering can—now empty and useless—loosely in one hand, waiting for what he would say. 

“If you had left him alone, he would have continued to fight,” Dedue finished her sentence with the reality she didn’t want to face. “He would have killed many more of our soldiers. Lorenz made his choice knowing it could lead to his death. Do you not also understand this?”

“I do,” Annette concurred. “But…it is hard to kill familiar faces. I do not like fighting, Dedue, no matter how good at it I am.”

“Few people enjoy it,” Dedue told her. His voice was still even but his eyes now looked rather sad. “Those who say they do lack humanity.”

Annette hadn’t thought of it like that before. 

“Then why _do_ we fight?” she asked in a soft voice. Her hands felt dirty, though it wasn’t because of the gardening. “Why can’t we solve things diplomatically without the need to kill?”

Dedue was silent again, his eyebrows furrowed as he considered the question. It sounded simple enough, on the surface at least. But the answer had been eluding Annette for years, and the question itself had become more important as the war dragged on. So many people had already died on all sides, and more deaths were surely coming. Annette knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would inevitably need to face more friends from her past, and the knowledge was like a stone in her heart. 

_If only I could understand, maybe it would make this war easier,_ she thought morosely. She set the watering can on the edge of the row of tomatoes and paced restlessly in front of Dedue. _If I know the answer, maybe I can make peace with the killing._

“I do not think there is any one answer to this question, Annette,” Dedue said at last. His deep voice was soothing despite the bleak topic. “People fight for all kinds of different reasons, and few people fight for only one reason at a time.”

“But if something could be solved without war, would that not be better for all of us?” she pressed. 

“Of course it would be,” Dedue replied calmly. He leaned against the wall across from her looking pensive. “Tell me, why do you fight?”

The question caught Annette off-guard. She tilted her head and stared at Dedue for a moment before she found her voice. “Well,” she said quickly. “Because I must.”

“No,” Dedue shook his head. “That is not a reason. You must look deeper than that.”

“Sure it is,” Annette argued. She felt like she was in a philosophy lecture, like the ones Professor Hanneman had sometimes went on tangentially during classes. “If I must fight, then I will.”

“That is a surface level response,” Dedue repeated. His eyes were sad. “For example, look at His Highness. For what does he fight, would you say?”

Annette thought back to Dimitri’s crazed face during their last battle, his incoherent screaming as he cut down the soldiers who advanced upon him. She remembered the disdain that Felix’s voice held as they argued about his obsession with the dead before the battle had even begun. Even the Professor had tried to curb Dimitri’s lust for blood, insisting that they could win without a slaughter, and he’d shut her down too. He was focused single-mindedly on one goal and it blocked out everything else from his mind. 

“I suppose he fights for revenge,” Annette began slowly. She went through her memories of the prince as if she might be able to piece together a picture of how he had become like this. “He wants to avenge the people who died in the Tragedy of Duscur.”

Dedue nodded approvingly. “It is so,” he agreed without any inflection. “Why, then, does Edelgard fight?”

Annette had not thought much about Edelgard or why she’d begun this war against the Church and all who sided with the Seiros faith. Her manifesto had been spread far and wide in the months immediately following the Battle of Garreg Mach, and not one of the Blue Lions had failed to hear it repeated, sometimes with awe and sometimes with fear. Edelgard was almost like a legend herself now. 

“She fights because she believes the Church has been a poison to the people of Fódlan,” Annette said, tapping her index finger against her cheek as she considered the question. “She wants to reunite the people under one ruler and tear down the Church that she believes has taken advantage of the people.”

“As good a response as any,” Dedue replied with a tight grin. “We are not in Edelgard’s confidence, so we cannot know all of her reasons, but those are the ones she has stated publicly. Why, then, do you think she and His Highness cannot resolve this war with words instead of weapons?”

These were hard questions. Annette was not prepared to answer them, but she tried, not knowing if her responses were right and hoping that they were close. 

“I suppose it is because Dimitri blames her for what happened in Duscur,” Annette said. “And Edelgard believes him complicit in supporting the deeds of the Church that she so despises.”

“Indeed,” Dedue said quietly. “I am not here to say one is right and the other is wrong. They have fundamentally different worldviews which cannot coexist. Nor,” he added in a softer tone, “is His Highness in a fit state for negotiation. Therefore, the longer this war goes on and Edelgard tightens her grip on Fódlan, the less likely it is that this can be resolved without further conflict.”

Annette sighed and ceased her pacing. She felt suddenly exhausted from the conversation and the thought of more killing. Reflecting on Lorenz was an uncomfortable reminder that anyone could die, even someone with magic as powerful as his was. She didn’t know why he had decided to fight or why he had chosen to ally himself with Edelgard, and now there was no hope of ever knowing.

 _Perhaps it is better this way,_ she thought sadly. _Suffice to say he made the choice that suited him, and unfortunately, it led our paths to cross on opposite sides of the battlefield. I might have died if not for Felix being with me.  
_

“Does this help, Annette?” Dedue asked gently, his deep voice drawing her out of her contemplation. 

“Yes,” Annette nodded and smiled. “It does. I only pray that this war will end swiftly and with as little bloodshed as possible.”

“As do I,” Dedue agreed solemnly. 

_Why do I fight?_ Annette wondered. She stared at the tomato bed, watching how the water clung to the tiny leaves. They were so fragile; they needed a gentle touch to grow properly. War was anything but gentle, and the weakest amongst society were the ones to suffer most because of it. Felix had always said he would never leave someone to suffer if he could help it—perhaps she fought for a similar reason? _It would not be right of me to sit idly by and watch as people die, not when I have the strength to help._

She had never been one to watch others suffer when she could help either. 

\---

Preparations to march on Enbarr were proceeding more quickly than Annette had anticipated. Dimitri lacked patience these days, and his desire to push forward into Empire territory bled into every action the army took. Professor Byleth looked more worn out than Annette had ever seen her. She followed Dimitri like his own shadow, desperately trying to reason with him that they were moving too quickly, and they had neither the supplies nor the strength to take on such a task at this point. He refused to budge despite her pleas, and so she was forced to make the best of the situation as it stood.

The month was passing far too quickly and as she sat down for their last war council before departing for their next battle, Annette realized that she hadn’t even spoken to Felix since the night he’d happened upon her while she cleaned the library. She tried to do the math in her head, but her memory was fuzzy—had it been two weeks or three? 

She couldn’t blame Felix for the lack of communication between them. Professor Byleth had been sending him out on long-ranging scouting missions for weeks now, sometimes with Sylvain and sometimes with Ingrid, and so he was frequently gone from the Monastery. Glancing across the table to where he sat between Lord Rodrigue and Sylvain, Annette thought that Felix was looking more exhausted than usual. His face was starting to mirror Dimitri’s in its gaunt look and with the dark circles under his eyes. It made Annette’s heart hurt to see him looking so drained and yet still pushing himself past his limits to support the war effort.

“The Empire is gathering troops at Fort Merceus,” Sir Gilbert informed Professor Byleth as she took her seat at the head of the table. “Our spy has been sending detailed reports, and I’m sorry to say that we will be heavily outnumbered.”

“We’ve been outnumbered this whole time,” Sylvain muttered loudly to no one in particular. He looked as bad as Felix did.

“The Emperor herself may be leading them,” Sir Gilbert continued as if there had been no interruption, though his expression darkened. “We _need_ House Riegan to unify the Alliance so that they can invade the Empire alongside us as allies.”

“We can’t count on that right now,” Lord Rodrigue mused. He squinted at the map on the table and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “At this point, we should expect there to be three armies clashing at Gronder Field. This could become very messy.”

“It will be a repeat of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion,” Ashe murmured, his green eyes downcast. “Except this time, we won’t be using blunted weapons.”

“Indulge in your nostalgia some other time,” Dimitri snapped from his usual spot against the wall. His voice was raspier than normal, like rocks grating against each other. “This is war. You should be used to this by now.”

The room was silent in the wake of Dimitri’s words. Annette glanced sympathetically at Ashe, but he didn’t return her look. He had never been very good at hiding his feelings, and she could tell that the rebuke had stung from the way he hung his head and stared moodily at the table. Professor Byleth’s mouth was set in a thin line, but she offered no comment. Felix and Sylvain exchanged a glance but neither contradicted him. Annette supposed that was because Dimitri was right, even if the way he said it was cruel. 

“I would suggest we avoid fighting with the Alliance as much as possible,” Ingrid said at length. She avoided looking at Dimitri for fear that he might lash out at her as well. “If we wish to win them as allies, it would be unwise to provoke them by killing their soldiers unnecessarily.”

“Agreed,” Professor Byleth nodded approvingly at her. “We can send a messenger to House Riegan to suggest the possibility of working together and see what kind of terms they would be looking for in such an agreement.”

“We know the terrain from when we fought there last,” Mercedes pointed out. Her voice sounded serene, but Annette could tell that she was worried by the way her fingers tightened around the arms of her chair. “I would suggest we approach this battle in a similar formation as we did five years ago. We won back then, after all.”

“That could work,” Sylvain agreed. His voice was uncharacteristically serious. “It doesn’t seem likely that the Empire or the Alliance will send all of their best soldiers to Gronder Field, but we don’t have a choice.”

“We should be able to take down the regular soldiers that way,” Professor Byleth said, nodding slowly as she considered the plan of attack. “We’ll try to stick together going the main route across the central hill and send one smaller group around the far side of the field to set up a pincer attack on the Imperial forces.”

“Tell us, boar prince,” Felix spat ruthlessly, turning to face Dimitri. His amber eyes—usually so bright and warm when Annette looked into them—were cold and full of loathing. “Do we even stand a chance?”

Dimitri snorted. He did not bother to reply.

“As I thought,” Felix sneered. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the hulking man hunched against the wall. “If we lose here, remember that we died for _you._ ”

“Enough, Felix,” Lord Rodrigue raised a hand to forestall further argument. He surveyed the assembled warriors and nodded approvingly. “We must focus on the battle ahead. We must depart tomorrow at dawn, so I suggest you all make your final preparations tonight.”

“Be prepared to kill or be killed,” Dimitri grunted. He pushed himself off the wall and turned toward the door, not bothering to wait for the council to officially adjourn. Dedue moved to follow him as he always did, looking stoic and loyal. “It does not matter who attacks you—you must be ready to fight for your life.”

“Do you not feel any hesitation to fight our old friends and classmates?” Annette asked softly. She wasn’t sure why her eyes were filling with tears, but she still struggled with remembering Lorenz laying dead at her feet. 

“I am used to killing familiar faces now,” Dimitri said shortly.

 _I’m not,_ Annette thought as she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. She knew the others were watching, but she would not allow them to see her cry. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and watched him leave the room with shoulders hunched under the weight of the dead. _I will never be used to it._

\---

The weather remained dismal and wet as the Blue Lions marched back toward the Great Bridge of Myrddin and crossed it to move south into Gronder Field. Exhaustion was a permanent state of being at this point, and as such conversation was subdued as they travelled. Annette rode beside Mercedes though she was lost in her own thoughts, trying not to imagine who she might have to face on the battlefield next. She had come to realize she wasn’t meant to be a fighter, that her offensive skill was born from necessity rather than desire, and that she’d have been much happier singing than spellcasting for the rest of her days.

 _I’ve come too far to abandon my friends now though,_ Annette thought. She could see Ashe riding beside Dedue and looking like he was being crushed under the same pressure to fight former friends that Annette herself was struggling to accept. _I must continue even if it means battling others I once knew._

They reached the Great Bridge of Myrddin after four days of hard travel. Annette was dozing in her saddle as her horse plodded along after Mercedes and Sylvain, both of whom had outpaced her. She hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks and the hard, cold ground hadn’t made the nights any easier. Her tent was small and lonely, and she woke more often than not from nightmares. Sometimes, she saw Lorenz’s dead eyes in her dreams and other times she saw Mercedes’ broken body covered in blood. Once, she’d woken crying and had had to creep toward where Felix was supposed to be keeping watch to make sure he wasn’t dead too.

“Annette, wait a moment.”

She startled awake, momentarily dazed from her catnap in the saddle and realized belatedly that everyone ahead of her had come to a stop. Felix had leaned over to tug the reins of her horse out of her slack grip and bring it to a halt. Yawning widely, she accepted them back and stretched her back as much as sitting on horseback would allow. Felix idled beside her and stared ahead intently to where the Professor was conversing with Gilbert and Lord Rodrigue. Something about their body language and the way Lord Rodrigue was gesticulating made Annette wonder what had happened to call this unexpected halt.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, watching the conversation ahead with great interest. 

“It seems one of the messengers we sent to House Riegan has been found dead not far from here,” Felix replied grimly. He didn’t sound surprised or even very concerned. “He never made it to Derdriu.” 

“No!” Annette gasped. She turned in her seat to stare at Felix, trying not to focus on how tired he looked. “Who could have done such a thing?”

“Any one of the Alliance lords,” Felix shrugged indifferently. “Claude, mayhap. More likely Lord Gloucester in retribution for how we killed Lorenz. At this point, it would not be in his best interest to allow the Kingdom army to parley with House Riegan.”

“How horrible,” Annette whispered. She turned her eyes back toward the front of the army in time to see Dimitri’s hand closing into a black-gauntleted fist. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what he was saying. 

“We’re in this war on our own, just as we always have been,” Felix muttered bitterly. He glared uselessly at Dimitri and Annette wondered just how much pain he felt at seeing the prince in this state. They had been friends once, long ago now. “He’s going to get us all killed, the madman.”

Annette sighed and watched the Professor lay a steadying hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. She shook her head and said something too softly for the words to carry down the line. She had been trying so hard lately to bring Dimitri to his senses and convince him that this course of action was too dangerous, and that they needed more time to prepare. The Professor had never stopped trying to convince Dimitri that this plan was foolish and convince him to be patient in his quest for revenge, no matter how he brushed her concerns off. 

“I believe we will get through this battle,” Annette said quietly. She smiled bravely at Felix, hoping it masked the fear she felt in her heart. “We’re all together now. Surely there is nothing that we cannot accomplish.”

Felix watched her closely for a long moment, studying her face as if he’d never seen her up close before. Annette could feel her cheeks beginning to flush under his scrutiny until he chuckled, hiding a wry grin behind his gloved hand. 

“I wish I had your hope,” Felix said after his laughter had subsided. He raised a hand as if to reach out and ruffle her hair affectionately but seemed to think better of it at the last moment, dropping it awkwardly back into his lap instead. “We’ll arrive at Gronder Field within a day now. Stay close to me—I don’t want to see a repeat of what happened five years ago.”

\---

“We’ve finally arrived,” Dimitri said in a low voice as the Kingdom army filed into position behind him. He stared across the field as though he could see Edelgard through the hills and trees. “Soon, the dead will have their due.”

Annette shivered involuntarily at the words. They sounded more like a curse than a promise to her ears. The clouds were threatening rain again today, not that it would make much difference; the ground was already muddy and difficult to traverse from torrential rains over the past several weeks since spring had arrived in Fódlan. She glanced toward the far hill where the staff of Garreg Mach had borne witness to the traditional Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago and wondered vaguely if they had ever thought that a real battle would be fought here again. 

_I doubt it,_ Annette decided, turning her gaze back to Felix who stood like a statue beside her. _They thought the three kingdoms were at peace under the rule of the Church._

“We will advance across the central hill,” Professor Byleth said loudly, her voice carrying clearly across the ranks of soldiers. “Ingrid, Sylvain, and Ashe, I want you to proceed around that direction and ensure our flank is covered from attack. Try not to engage any Alliance soldiers unless it is unavoidable.”

“I guess we’re following the boar,” Felix muttered darkly. He tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword and swore profusely under his breath. 

“Lookout!” Sylvain shouted, thrusting his arm into the air and pointing at the sky. 

Annette looked up in time to see the sky bright with soaring fireballs—there had to be a hundred of them arcing through the sky directly toward where their army stood. She raised her arms instinctually and braced herself for the impact, hoping desperately that they wouldn’t land near her; she’d been badly burned once already in recent weeks and did not fancy a repeat experience. Voices screamed around her as the fire blazed around the army causing the neat ranks of soldiers to scatter and flee. It was a calculated attack, intended to cause disorganization and panic, ultimately making it easier to break them.

 _We will not be so easily deterred,_ Annette thought decisively. She lowered her arms from her face and felt a familiar streak of stubborn anger flare in her chest. _We must win here so that we may live._

“I will tear your heads from your shoulders,” Dimitri promised the Imperial army as the ground burned around his feet. He seemed wholly unconcerned with the state of his soldiers, almost unaware of what had transpired around him. He seemed to be lost in a world of his own as he spoke. “I will not rest until the dead have been satisfied.”

“To your positions!” Professor Byleth shouted, lifting the Sword of the Creator above her head and pointing forward with her free arm. “Blue Lions, move out!”

Dimitri raced forward with more speed than his bulky size suggested he was capable with Areadbhar glowing in his hand. There was a wild look in his eye that sent another shiver of fear through Annette’s spine just as Dedue followed him without hesitation into the oncoming Imperial soldiers. She could hear Dimitri laughing as he swung his lance through the soldiers that dared to approach, a sound that she was sure she would hear in her nightmares.

“Kill every last one of them!” Dimitri screamed through his uncontrollable laughter. “Let none of these traitors escape the judgement of the dead!”

“He’s mad,” Felix growled as he sprinted forward. Despite how he fought against Dimitri’s wishes at every turn, he never failed to rush to his aid in battle, covering his flanks as much as the prince would allow in his bloodlust. It was dangerous since Dimitri did not pay close attention to where his allies were positioned around him, but in all the time Annette had known him, Felix had never abandoned the prince. 

Annette scrambled to follow him, hiking her skirts well above her ankles to keep from tripping in the mud. Even in better conditions, Felix was less burdened by his clothing and significantly faster with his longer legs and physical stamina. She could see him battling with all the ferocity of a cornered wolf despite his exhaustion. Lord Rodrigue fought on the prince’s other side, swinging a lance shining with blood, his white horse rearing dangerously on its hind legs. In the heat of battle, Annette thought that the father and son were not so different; they fought with their whole being, never backing down despite the odds stacked against them. 

She cast a gale into the melee ahead to force the enemy away from Dimitri and Felix, allowing them to advance forward into the empty space she created. They wasted no time in slicing their way through the Imperial soldiers, but their progress forward was slow; there were simply too many enemies. 

_How does the Empire have so many soldiers?_ Annette wondered in amazement as another gust of wind forced a new squadron on enemies to the ground. Dimitri fell upon them like a wounded beast, his voice echoing wordlessly across the battlefield despite the clamour around them. _It’s like they’re expendable to the Emperor._

The Kingdom army did not have the luxury of wasting soldiers. 

Annette wasn’t sure how long it took them to reach the crest of the hill, but it felt like hours. Her body was shaking from the aftershocks of magical energy, but there was no help for it. She had to keep moving forward, keep casting spells, keep watching for an opening where she could help. Her feet felt like lead blocks as she forced herself to keep moving up the hill, desperately trying to keep her friends in sight. Mercedes had been with her for a time, but she had long since been brought elsewhere on the battlefield to tend to the wounded. Professor Byleth had kept pace with Dimitri and Felix, and Annette could see all three of them fighting tooth and nail at the front of their squadron. 

_They must be so tired,_ she thought distantly. No one had had any true rest in months, but Professor Byleth had been commanding their army for so long that Annette was surprised she hadn’t fainted simply from the pressure of it. This wasn’t anything like their days at the Officer’s Academy when they would deploy on small missions each month for practice. It wasn’t even like running a mercenary band where the commands were given to you by the army that contracted your services. 

It was war, and every decision mattered. 

There was a brief reprieve once Annette gained the top of the hill. Her breath was coming in short gasps from the exertion of making it this far, but she felt a certain grim satisfaction knowing that she hadn’t given up. Dimitri had already begun his descent down the other side even as the Professor shouted orders to secure the area, her voice hoarse and barely strong enough to be heard above the fighting. Despite how he was coated in blood, Dedue followed Dimitri down the hill without a backward glance.

Felix was panting too, his clothes stained with blood and his face was extremely pale. Annette wasn’t sure what was his and what wasn’t, but she supposed that it didn’t really matter. He was alive and whole, after all. He didn’t watch Dimitri’s descent, instead opting to unhook a flask of water from his belt and offering it to her. Annette took it gratefully, gulping down the cool liquid much faster than she ought to have done. Felix surveyed their surroundings from this vantage point with the look of someone who was unimpressed by their current state of affairs in this battle.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Her throat was still dry, but the water had made her feel a little more alert. “Do you need any healing?”

“No,” Felix shook his head. He took the flask back and drank the rest. “Save your strength for others. I’ll be fine.”

“Felix, be reasonable,” Annette said desperately, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him closer. “You’re bleeding everywhere. It’s dangerous to fight like this.”

“I’m telling you, I’ll be fine,” Felix insisted. He pulled his arm out of her hands and made to follow Dimitri down the other side of the hill. “These wounds aren’t enough to kill me.”

Annette wanted to argue but there was no time in battle. She watched him hurry forward, noticing how his movements were slower than normal and the way he struggled to breathe as soon as he began to sprint away. His body couldn’t possibly sustain much more of this pressure—not just this battle, but _everything_ he had been expected to do since this campaign began at their reunion during the Millennium Festival. The Blue Lions were elite fighters, but they were also human—too much stress, and the body would inevitably break.

“Watch out, Miss Dominic!” 

Annette whirled around at the sound of her name in time to see Lord Rodrigue racing toward her. His white horse was lathered and bloody from the battle, snorting wildly even as he pulled on the reins. His clothing was torn and bloody, and Annette could see a deep gash along his left side that was still bleeding gently. Lord Rodrigue didn’t seem to notice the injury as he scooped her up with one strong arm into the saddle before him, never slowing the pace of his mount. She squeaked in astonishment, clinging to his waist out of sheer surprise at suddenly finding herself aloft and racing after Felix. 

“What—” Annette began, her eyes widening as she glanced past him toward the hill she’d just been standing on. “Oh!”

It had gone up in flames as they rode away that were as red as the Empire’s flag. Annette hadn’t noticed the Imperial mages casting more fireballs at their position; with only a short moment of rest, her exhausted mind had wandered far from the battle at hand. Annette had been briefly consumed by her concern for Felix’s wounds and her worry for his long-term health. It was dangerous to lose focus in battle—it was precisely why Felix had always insisted he keep his feelings locked away. Fighting was hard enough without allowing yourself to become distracted by someone else’s plight.

She would have died in those flames if it hadn’t been for Lord Rodrigue. 

“You saved me,” Annette said with awe as the flames grew higher. She glanced up at him as the horse began to slow. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Lord Rodrigue grinned tightly at her and helped her dismount. “Not a problem,” he said, already turning his horse to catch up with his son and Dimitri. They were engaging with Edelgard’s personal guard, and it was clear that Lord Rodrigue was itching to go and assist them. “I could not leave you there.”

He was out of earshot before Annette could think of a reply, his long cape stretched out in the wind behind him like a pair of large wings. 

_They’re really not so different,_ Annette realized as her feet carried her in Lord Rodrigue’s wake. She couldn’t see Felix in the battle ahead, but Dimitri towered over everyone else. He was locked in a battle with Edelgard, her red armour and white hair flashing like a beacon amongst the dull grey of the Kingdom soldiers surrounding her position. She heaved a huge shield nearly as large herself to block Dimitri’s increasingly wild attacks. _They put others ahead of themselves, just like a true knight._

She cast another gale into the fight ahead, knocking as many enemy soldiers away from the Kingdom army as she could. Dedue shouldered his way into the fray and forced the Imperial soldiers away from Edelgard, as if trying to preserve the semblance of an honourable duel in the middle of a war. They were all locked in their own separate battles; the Fraldarius men were fighting at least three soldiers each while Professor Byleth held off several more nearby. It was pure chaos and Annette realized she was afraid to cast another spell lest she hit her allies. 

A scream of rage echoed across the field as Annette moved cautiously closer in hopes of gaining a better view of the battle. Edelgard had disengaged back from Dimitri and bent forward with one arm across her abdomen. Her beautiful face was screwed up with pain and she spat at Dimitri as he thrust his lance toward her. Annette had never seen Edelgard so angry; she had always seemed to calm during their days at the Officer’s Academy. Even when her disguise as the Flame Emperor had been revealed, she had looked prepared to face the consequences, almost as if she’d been expecting it. 

“I must retreat,” she announced loudly, gesturing for the remains of her honour guard to move forward and cover her. “Dimitri, mark my words: we will meet again before this war is over.”

“You think you can escape, Edelgard?” Dimitri shouted after her, stepping forward as if he meant to chase her. “You will not outrun me so easily!”

“Your Highness, please wait!” Lord Rodrigue called, moving his horse to block Dimitri’s pursuit. “I understand that you want to finish this here and now, but it would be foolish to continue. We will take the fight to her in Enbarr.”

Dimitri wasn’t listening. He tried to push past Lord Rodrigue again only for the horse to block his way forward once more. “I’ll kill them all!” Dimitri howled. “No matter how many of them there are, I will kill them all!”

Felix and Dedue had finally dispatched the last of their opponents and were returning to investigate the commotion. They had both sustained more injuries and Annette hurried over to them to offer her healing. Dedue was favouring his left leg and Felix’s sword arm hung bloody and useless at his side. He knelt in the muddy grass so that she could tend to his injury first and winced as Annette gently pushed away the torn remnants of his sleeve.

“Stay still,” she murmured soothingly. Her back was to the commotion behind her. “I can heal this, and you’ll be as good as new.”

“I know,” Felix replied softly. He was watching Dimitri argue with Lord Rodrigue as the warm healing glow wrapped around his arm. “What in Nemesis’ name is going on over there?”

The voices behind Annette were growing louder and more urgent. She tried to block it out and focus on her work but it was impossible not to hear the words. 

“Who are you?” Lord Rodrigue barked. “Fall back immediately! It is too dangerous for a civilian here.”

 _Civilian?_ Annette wondered. She peered at Felix’s arm and watched the muscles repair themselves and the skin begin to knit back together. _Nobody lives around here, do they?_

“Your Highness!” Lord Rodrigue cried with real distress in his voice. “Get away from him!”

“No,” Felix whispered. He began to rise, trying to pull his arm out of Annette’s grasp.

“Felix, please wait,” Annette begged him. She could feel tears welling in her eyes. “It’s almost done, I swear! Please, I don’t want to risk you not being able to use your sword again if you move before it’s all healed.”

He paused in a half-crouch, but his wide eyes never left the scene ahead of him. Annette could not remember him ever looking truly scared. Her own blood went cold in her veins as his face paled. Felix seemed incapable of looking away and Annette desperately wished she could see what was happening. Even Dedue looked like he was carved from stone, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. 

“Did I catch you unawares, Your Highness?” screamed an unfamiliar woman’s voice. She sounded hysterical and her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Does it hurt? I hope it does. But it is _nothing_ compared to what my brother felt!” She laughed and it made Annette shiver involuntarily. “The Goddess will never forgive you for what you’ve done. _I_ will never forgive you!”

“I’m done,” Annette whispered, tears clinging to her lashes. The fear in Felix’s eyes scared her more than anything else had in a long time. 

He was already pulling his sword out of its scabbard and moving toward Dimitri. Annette turned around in time to see a woman standing behind Dimitri with a sword poised to strike him in the back. The prince was oddly quiet now, kneeling in the grass and looking very much like he was waiting for the blow to fall. His expression was surprisingly calm, as if he had been waiting for someone to come and kill him. 

“It’s time to die!” the woman screamed, her voice carrying across the field of the dead and dying. 

Annette had enough time to realize that Felix was too far away and too exhausted to reach them in time to make a difference. He was running as fast as his weary legs would carry him with his sword drawn and eyes fixed on his father. 

_It’s too late,_ Annette thought with horror. She scrambled to her feet and followed him without thinking, running as quickly as she could over the uneven earth. _I took too long to heal him, or he would have had a chance to make it in time!_

“Dimitri!” Lord Rodrigue yelled. He spurred his horse forward and leapt out of the saddle as a shield for the prince. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, but she maintained the trajectory of her attack, plunging the blade in a downward stroke intended to kill.

“ _Father!_ ” Felix shouted. Urged on by a sudden burst of adrenaline, he raced forward with renewed speed. 

The sword sank into Lord Rodrigue’s chest as easily as if he had no armour on at all. Annette screamed as he swayed on his feet for a moment and fell forward onto his knees at the woman’s feet. She still seemed surprised that her attack on Dimitri had been foiled. For his part, the prince turned and caught Lord Rodrigue as he fell. He looked nearly as surprised as the assassin that the blade hadn’t pierced his back as she’d intended. 

Felix didn’t waste any words. He roared wordlessly, ruthlessly thrusting his own bloody blade deep into the woman’s back. Her lips moved slightly as the light in her eyes died. She collapsed into a heap at Felix’s feet, but he didn’t pay her body any attention. He dropped to his knees beside his father and folded Lord Rodrigue’s free hand in his own. Annette found herself come to a wobbly stop several paces away, unsure if she should approach any further. 

“Rodrigue,” Dimitri said hoarsely. “You protected me…”

“Are you safe, Dimitri?” Lord Rodrigue asked quietly. He coughed and Annette could see blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. “Please tell me you’re safe…”

“Father…” Felix said in a raw voice. He was shaking violently despite an obvious attempt to control it. “Father…you’re going to be all right.”

“This punishment was mine to bear,” Dimitri said quietly. He was shaking too. “Why…?”

“This is war, Dimitri,” Lord Rodrigue murmured. “There are no sins and punishments here. Only life and death.”

“Don’t die,” Dimitri begged him desperately. He tightened his grip around Lord Rodrigue’s body. “Please…I’ve already lost my father, my stepmother, and Glenn. Please, don’t allow your ghost to shadow me now, too.”

“Please, don’t die,” Felix echoed. He was shaking violently and had his father’s hand in a vice grip. “Please, don’t leave me alone. You’re the only family I have left.”

“I killed you,” Dimitri sobbed. “This is all my fault. I should have died, not you.”

Inexplicably, Lord Rodrigue chuckled. It turned into a hacking cough and more blood dribbled out of his mouth, but his dark eyes were still amused. He glanced between the two young men on either side of him and smiled. 

“You have one thing wrong,” he told Dimitri. “None of us have died for you. I’m dying for what I believe in, just as they also did. Your life is your own, and belongs to no one else, living or dead. If you would remember me…I beg you, please _live._ Live for what you believe in.”

Dimitri stared at him wordlessly, tears still falling down his pale cheeks. Lord Rodrigue turned his head to face Felix and smiled again. He raised a hand to his son’s cheek and caressed it as if he were still a small child. Felix was crying now too, unheeding of the friends who were slowly gathering on the edges of his grief. 

“Felix,” Lord Rodrigue murmured. “I’m sorry. I am truly sorry for everything.”

“Father…” Felix wept. He bent over Lord Rodrigue’s body and whispered something into his ear that Annette could not hear. 

“Felix…” Lord Rodrigue smiled sadly up at him as Felix sat back up. Tears were still coursing down his cheeks. “I believe in you. I…”

His voice faltered and Felix leaned forward again to hear what he said. His amber eyes widened with astonishment and he urgently whispered something back. Annette felt like she was an intruder watching something entirely too private for such a public place, but there was no help for it. She could feel her own tears dripping down her cheeks and turned away to try and give Felix some semblance of privacy. 

_It’s the least I can do,_ Annette told herself sternly, dragging the back of her hand over her eyes. _I was too slow, or this might have been avoided._

“My promise,” Lord Rodrigue said with his last breath. “My king, it is done.”

A heavy silence settled over the assembled company as the two men—one fair and one dark—knelt over the body of Lord Rodrigue. They stayed that way for a long time, heads bent together and bodies shaking as they wept for the loss of a man whom they had loved, each in their own way. Perhaps, if the Goddess was merciful, she would have allowed them a respite from the fighting to properly grieve his passing. Yet the wind continued to blow, and time continue to flow, and there was no time to stay and mourn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end has come for Rodrigue :( I'm going to miss writing his voice, he was one of my favourites in the post-timeskip. I hope you enjoyed the way he developed in this fic. I really enjoyed him during the game and I wish he'd gotten more development during it. It was fun to explore the Fraldarius family relationships here. 
> 
> I'm planning on updating again this weekend, but I may reduce updates to once a week after that one since I'm starting to catch up to myself. I'm finishing up Chapter 32 right now, but they have been trending longer, so they're taking me longer to finish :) I'm hoping not to catch myself, but it may still happen before the end, so updates may begin to slow down.
> 
> Thank you for kind comments and feedback thus far. I do appreciate you sticking with me throughout this fic, and as always, I hope you enjoyed this one! <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	29. Find Me; Find You

The return journey to Garreg Mach was sombre and quiet. It rained nearly every day since the Kingdom army departed from Gronder Field, but nobody seemed to notice how their clothing was soaked through. A pall of sorrow clung to the ranking Blue Lion’s officers as they retreated to the Monastery from which no one could escape. It was Great Tree Moon and it was supposed to be the beginning of spring when new life would sprout and flourish. But a springtime war brought only pain and death, suffocating any hope that the world might be rejuvenated merely by a cleansing rain. 

Felix rode alone on his black horse beside the wagon carrying his father’s body, and no one dared approach him. He supposed that was all right; he was relieved not to have to speak to anyone and make small talk. He didn’t have the energy to deal with the sadness of others; his own pain was hard enough. Felix hadn’t truly considered that his father might die during this campaign. He had always been too strong in Felix’s eyes. 

_Just like Glenn,_ he thought bitterly, trying to hold back more tears. It was still difficult with the death so fresh, but Felix had always been good at hiding from his feelings. _I looked up to him like Glenn, and now he’s gone too._

Dimitri rode beside Professor Byleth well ahead of the army, silent and introspective. He seemed to have been shocked into meekness, like a boar whose tusks had been suddenly ripped away. Both men had been changed by the death of Lord Rodrigue, and it was only right that they be given the space to grieve in peace. There would be time enough for comfort and condolences later.

Felix wasn’t sure that he wanted condolences. 

Meaningless words of sympathy wouldn’t restore Lord Rodrigue to life. They wouldn’t repair the broken family of House Fraldarius. They wouldn’t end this pointless war without further loss or bloodshed. They wouldn’t make Felix’s heart hurt less or help him come to terms with burying his own father well before his time. It had only been Felix and his father for so long that he wasn’t used to hearing words of comfort in times of sorrow, and he was afraid that he didn’t know how to respond to them. Lord Rodrigue had been as bad as Felix at expressing his feelings, and it was too late now to change anything. 

It was with these heavy thoughts that Felix passed through the front gates of Garreg Mach several days after the Battle of Gronder Field. Dimitri had already disappeared into the depths of the Monastery, his hulking back hunched forward like a man whose spirit had been broken beyond repair. Professor Byleth watched him go, her own green eyes reflecting a curious kind of pride as she turned to face Felix. The wagon carrying Lord Rodrigue creaked to a halt beside him. 

“I will have the healers embalm him,” she said quietly and without preamble. Felix had always appreciated that about her; she never wasted time with pleasantries. “And we will hold a service on the morrow in his memory.”

“Thank you,” Felix croaked, mainly because this felt like the most appropriate response. 

“Once he is embalmed, we can make preparations to send his body back to Fraldarius for burial,” she went on gently. Professor Byleth smiled and patted Felix’s shoulder reassuringly. “I am sure Lord Rodrigue would prefer to be laid to rest near his family.”

Felix didn’t know what he would have wanted so he said nothing. He would be laid to rest beside his wife and son, so he supposed that would be poetic, if nothing else. Most of the family would be reunited then—it would have been funny if it wasn’t so horribly morbid. A part of Felix wanted to laugh hysterically at the thought and a part of him wanted to cry all over again. He felt like he was drowning in a flood of emotions, desperately trying to grasp onto something to stabilize him before he sank.

Professor Byleth was giving orders for the body to be taken away and people were moving past Felix as though he wasn’t there. He felt strangely lost now that they were back home, unsure what he ought to do. His feet were rooted to where he stood despite how restless he felt inside, his hands itching to have something to do. Felix couldn’t remember feeling like this when Glenn died; he’d been full of iridescent anger back then with all the energy of a child who was unwilling to accept that his brother was dead and gone.

Now he was older and more jaded. The anger he had felt at seeing his father stabbed in the back by an assassin’s blade had faded quickly; he hadn’t had the energy to sustain it. All that he had left was a dull, throbbing pain in his chest and a heart full of regret. 

“You ready to spar?” Sylvain said quietly, stepping up beside Felix. His face was pale, and his cheeks were hollow from exhaustion, but he looked deathly serious. 

Felix considered him for a moment and nodded. He needed something to do, anything to keep his mind from dwelling on the pain. He walked with Sylvain to the training grounds in silence, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It was oddly comforting to walk with Sylvain after days of lonely travel with only his own thoughts for company, not that he would say it aloud. They had been friends for a very long time, witnessing each other’s struggles and sorrows, and finding ways to deal with that pain together. 

Sylvain tossed a wooden practice sword to Felix and gave his own practice lance a few experimental swings. The sword was significantly lighter than any of Felix’s usual weapons, but he supposed it was safer this way; he didn’t want to cut Sylvain into pieces after all. They stood facing each other in the dim light of the afternoon, eyes locked and gazes distant, remembering those they had loved and lost. 

Felix dashed forward first, roaring wordlessly as he slammed his sword against Sylvain’s lance. He swung fiercely and carelessly, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and blurring his vision. His blows were wild and uncoordinated, fueled purely by passion and grief. It was a far cry from his usual precision and skill where every swing was calculated and every movement mattered. It had been a very long time since Felix had allowed his feelings to guide his blade. There was a sense of freedom in it that he hadn’t tasted since Glenn died.

For his part, Sylvain was content to allow Felix to pelt him with blows, blocking them easily with his lance and offering only a handful of half-hearted counterattacks. He was breathing heavily from the start, but Sylvain never voiced a single complaint, and nor did he ask Felix to stop his onslaught. It was one reason why they had been friends for so long. 

“Thank you,” Felix panted, finally giving in to his fatigue and lowering his sword. He was sweating profusely from the exertion and he’d lost track of the time, but the pain was dulled for the moment. “I needed that.”

“I know,” Sylvain replied. He was doubled over with his hands on his knees and heaving gasping breaths. “You’ve done the same for me before.” 

Felix took Sylvain’s lance and replaced their weapons on the training rack. He tried to slow his breathing as he walked and empty his mind of thoughts, but it seemed impossible. The grief kept swelling in his chest, threatening to burst through in a fresh wave of emotion. 

_It shouldn’t be this difficult to handle,_ Felix thought, standing over the rack of weapons like a statue, _I lost Glenn already, and I’ve caused my fair share of deaths. I should be used to the feeling of loss by now. My life has been defined by death._

“I’m sorry about your father,” Sylvain said quietly. “I wish I had been there to help.”

“It’s fine,” Felix lied. It wasn’t fine, but it also wasn’t Sylvain’s fault that his father had died, and his being there probably wouldn’t have changed anything. 

Sylvain didn’t look like he believed Felix, but he didn’t press the issue. They stared at each other in silence until the redhead cracked a tired smile and swung his arm around Felix’s shoulders, steering him out of the training grounds. For once, Felix didn’t shrug it off. 

“You look like hell,” Sylvain told him. “You should probably go get some sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Felix replied. “Not tonight.”

“I know,” the other man agreed with a nod. “So, let’s go get a drink instead, eh?”

Felix wasn’t one to drink excessively. It was dangerous during a war because it affected one’s judgement in battle and lowered one’s defenses. He enjoyed a glass of wine from time to time, or a mug of beer with his friends on occasion, but those were far and few between nowadays. He’d been gone from the Monastery so much lately that he hadn’t had the opportunity to drink anyway. He could already feel a splitting headache coming on and he knew that alcohol would only exacerbate it.

“Yeah,” Felix said. “Let’s.”

\---

He woke the next morning to a constant _tap-tap-tap_ against his door and the inside of his skull. Felix pulled himself into a sitting position and laid a hand against his forehead, closing his eyes as the room swayed violently around him. His entire body seemed to ache. Felix wasn’t sure if that was from sheer exhaustion or from the beer the night before, but it really didn’t make much difference in the end. 

“It’s open,” he rasped, unsure if his voice was loud enough to be heard properly.

The door creaked open as he spoke, and Ingrid poked her head inside. Her green eyes were full of concern as she pushed the door open. She carried a tray with a small teapot and teacup on it and set it on the table with a gentle clatter. The sound echoed through Felix’s already pounding head. He groaned and stretched experimentally to make sure his body was still in one piece. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said quietly, pulling out the rickety chair and taking a seat beside his bed. “You look terrible.”

“I feel terrible,” Felix grunted. He peered at the tray with visible curiosity. “What have you got there?”

“Something that should help you feel better,” she replied evasively. Ingrid filled the teacup with a drink that smelled strongly of ginger. “Mercedes recommended it.”

Felix sniffed the drink tentatively but decided that if anyone could be trusted with hangover remedies, it would be their resident healer. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took a long sip. The liquid burned all the way down his throat and tasted so vile that it threatened to come right back up. Felix heaved and Ingrid leaned away, but he forced himself to keep the tea down until his stomach settled back into place. He couldn’t remember exactly how much he’d drank the previous night nor when he and Sylvain had finally stumbled back to their rooms. 

“Thanks,” Felix said hoarsely. He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes again. He hoped that the effects of the tea would kick in soon. “How’d you know I needed that?”

“You and Sylvain aren’t that quiet when you’re drunk,” Ingrid replied with a hint of her usual dry humour. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t thinking. Didn’t want to be thinking, in fact.”

“I get that,” Ingrid said softly. She shifted in her chair and the wood creaked ominously beneath her. “I’m so sorry Felix. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

“It’s fine,” Felix lied again. He forced back another swallow of the tea and grimaced at it went down. He wondered what Mercedes had brewed into this concoction but decided it was probably better not to know. “It happens in war. There was no way that we were all getting through this alive.”

Ingrid chewed her bottom lip and stared down at her feet. “Still,” she whispered, her own shoulders shaking. “First Glenn, now Lord Rodrigue…I wish I could have done something to help.”

Sylvain had said the same thing. It seemed that everyone regretted not being able to change what had happened. It was pointless to wish for that though; Felix had replayed the entire scene in his head countless times now. He knew that there was nothing anyone could have done to change the outcome of that situation. It was a hard truth, and Felix was still trying to accept it himself, but that didn’t change that it _was_ the truth. 

_The only thing that could have changed it,_ he thought, holding his head in both hands, _would have been not marching toward Enbarr at all. Even then, there’s no guarantee that that assassin wouldn’t have appeared elsewhere and done the same thing._

“When is this memorial?” Felix asked, trying to keep the conversation from falling into an awkward, moping silence. 

“Soon,” Ingrid replied. Her voice quivered slightly but she kept her composure. Felix realized for the first time that she had decided not to wear her usual white and silver armour today, opting instead for a plain black dress with sleeves that were just a little too short. “That’s why I thought I would bring you the tea now, so that your head would feel a bit better beforehand.” 

Ingrid had never stopped acting like a sister even though her betrothal to the Fraldarius family had ended so many years ago. Felix realized how lucky he was to have her and Sylvain in his life. They were like siblings; he relied on them more than he was wont to admit, and they had proven themselves as trustworthy as Glenn had ever been. He feared that without them, he would have become a very different man.

“It’s already working,” Felix told her. His body was still aching and exhausted, but it didn’t feel like someone was pounding hundreds of tiny hammers against the inside of his skull anymore, so Felix considered that a win. “I guess I had better get changed so that we can head over, then.”

Ingrid stood and poured the rest of the tea into his cup. She offered him a weak smile as she gathered the tray and the empty teapot under one arm. “I recommend you finish the rest,” she said from the doorway. “Just to be sure you feel as well as you can before we go. You can drink yourself into another stupor later if you want, but you should be awake for this.”

Felix didn’t think that the tea would make him feel much better, but he nodded all the same.

\---

Although the Cathedral was still under repairs—most of which would take years to complete even without a war going on—much of the debris from the broken ceiling and pillars had been cleared away. The broken statue of the Goddess had been removed and its plinth stood empty, but it still felt like the most appropriate place to hold a memorial service. Lord Rodrigue had always been properly devout in life, offering his prayers to the Goddess and donations to her Church as required of his station. If his son was somewhat less pious, a proper memorial and eventual burial service with all the necessary rites was only right to honour his memory. 

Felix did not have a proper black suit to wear for a memorial service, so he donned his old formal school uniform that had been crumpled in the bottom of his closet since the winter ball five years ago. Sylvain and Ashe had done similarly and wore old school uniforms that didn’t quite fit properly anymore while Dedue and Dimitri had opted to simply wear their usual battle garb. Standing beside Sylvain and surveying the group that had gathered for the service, Felix vaguely wondered where the women had found their long dresses. Even Professor Byleth had found a set of black robes trimmed with gold that probably had belonged to Archbishop Rhea before she had disappeared. 

She stood before the gathered Blue Lions with Seteth at her side to conduct the memorial. Felix was sure she was saying lovely, kind words over his father’s corpse, but for the life of him, Felix couldn’t hear her voice. He stared at the plain, hastily assembled wooden coffin and at his father’s cold, white face with unblinking eyes. It would be the last time he saw his father’s face, and Felix found himself suddenly wanted to memorize every inch of it. He’d never thought much about his father’s facial structure, but he’d long since forgotten what his mother’s face truly looked like and was determined not to allow the same thing to happen again.

_I never thought it would come to this, old man,_ Felix thought wryly as Seteth finally stepped forward to seal the casket shut. _Mourning your death like this. I guess I never really thought you’d die yet._

“May the Goddess guide you into the next life,” Professor Byleth was saying, holding the prayer book with one hand and squinting at the words she was supposed to say. “I now invite those gathered to pay their respects to the deceased’s family.”

She closed the book with an audible snap and nodded at the group. This was the part that Felix had been dreading the most. He was unsociable at the best of times—forcing him to stand alone and accept the condolences and well-wishes of his peers was almost akin to torture. Professor Byleth approached him first and wrung his hand firmly, murmuring words of sympathy that Felix only barely registered. It felt oddly surreal, standing in front of his father’s coffin and seeing his friends approach one by one with their sympathies. 

He couldn’t help but notice Annette’s stricken face as she came forward after Ashe and gently took his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Felix,” she whispered. “If I had been faster healing you…”

It was so like Annette to blame herself for something she had no control over. Felix shook his head. “Don’t you dare blame yourself,” he said firmly, his voice low and serious. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“Annette,” Felix interrupted. Her blue eyes were wide and sad, and it made his heart hurt more to know that she blamed herself for his father’s death. “Trust me. It’s not your fault. I would never hold you accountable for what happened.”

She stood before him silently, clutching his hands tightly and looking like she was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry all the same,” she repeated quietly. “If there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”

There were many things Felix could have said in response to this invitation. He wanted to keep holding her warm hands, to hear her voice in his ear, to feel her lips against his skin. He wanted to listen to her sing about steaks, and cakes, and cleaning, and anything else that struck her fancy. He wanted her to promise that she would not leave him too, that she would not end up in a casket like his father’s and force him to stand there mourning her death. 

“I will,” Felix said instead. He wondered if she could read any of those desires in his eyes or hear them in his voice. He wondered if he was still capable of hiding his feelings as well as he used to. 

They stood staring at each other for a moment longer before Annette finally sighed and released his hands. She offered him a final sad smile and gracefully stepped aside to allow Seteth to move forward with his condolences. Felix didn’t hear anything he said. He watched her leave the Cathedral arm in arm with Mercedes and wished that he could be walking with her instead of being forced to stand in front of his father’s casket and listen to one person after another offer their sympathies for his loss. She paused near the doors to glance back over her shoulder and Felix could see the regret in her eyes even from a distance. 

_It’s not your fault,_ he thought, willing his conviction to somehow reach her. He watched Annette turn away and follow her friend out into the daylight, unsure how he could possibly convince her to let go of that burden.

It seemed entirely too long before the line of visitors dwindled into only a handful of people. Felix was bone-weary with fatigue and his patience had already been running thin. By the time that Sir Gilbert approached, his wrinkled face dour and his eyes reflecting a regret not unlike Annette’s, Felix could already feel every exhausted fibre of his being stand on edge. He had not trusted this man since the first time he’d had a real conversation with Annette, and he was now very familiar with the kind of man Sir Gilbert had become. 

“Please accept my condolences for your loss,” the old knight said, laying a hand over his heart and inclining his head. 

“Thank you,” Felix said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. 

“Lord Rodrigue was a good man and an excellent soldier,” Gilbert continued, apparently unaware of Felix’s complete disinterest in continuing their dialogue. “He will be greatly missed.”

“I’m sure,” Felix grumbled. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and glanced pointedly past the man’s shoulder toward the exit. 

Sir Gilbert did not pick up on the hint. He shook his head and his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I have failed again,” he said bitterly. “I could not even save Lord Rodrigue. Truly, I am a disgrace of a knight.”

Felix felt a muscle twitch in his jaw and a familiar anger flare in his chest. Where he wanted nothing more than to assure Annette that she had no fault in his father’s untimely death and ease her fears on the matter, he had no qualms about putting Sir Gilbert in his place.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Felix snapped irritably. “You knights always want to take on the weight of the world. My father died fighting for a cause he believed in. It had nothing to do with _you._ ”

“It is a knight’s duty to protect others,” Gilbert said. He looked taken aback by Felix’s tone. “I have done nothing but fail in it. You would not have lost your family if I had—”

“Didn’t you listen to a fucking word I said?” Felix growled. His eyes flashed with anger as he spoke. “It has nothing to do with you. You’d do better to worry about your daughter’s safety rather than my old man.”

Gilbert looked like Felix had struck him. He stumbled backward in surprise, his blue eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. Felix had never been very subtle about his dislike for Annette’s father, and they’d found themselves at odds on more than one occasion because of it. Gilbert had avoided interacting with Felix outside of their war councils and even then, he preferred to confer with Lord Rodrigue whenever possible. It hadn’t bothered Felix all that much—he found the unspoken arrangement to his liking. 

“My daughter,” Gilbert repeated blandly. His face was making a surprisingly accurate imitation of a fish.

“Yes, you remember her, right?” Felix said scathingly. “We’ve had this conversation once before. My old man had the best armor that money can buy, and he _still_ died to that blade. Annette wears light leather armor reinforced with chain links _at best._ ” He paused to let the words sink in. Gilbert’s face was rapidly becoming paler. “She has _less_ of a chance of surviving an attack like that than my old man with all his fancy armor. So, shouldn’t you be more concerned with _her_ safety?”

_I know that I am,_ Felix added inwardly. He glared at Gilbert, taking in how the man looked like he had been stabbed between the ribs by a blade not unlike that which had taken Lord Rodrigue’s life. _Her safety means everything to me._

He roughly shoved past Gilbert toward the exit having finally decided that this conversation was less than pointless and that he would rather be anywhere else. Gilbert seemed to have lost the power of speech; he stood rooted in place staring at Lord Rodrigue’s coffin, seemingly unaware that Felix was leaving. 

“Maybe you should take some time to show her you care,” Felix added as an afterthought. He paused halfway down the centre aisle, though he didn’t turn his head. He knew Gilbert was listening. “She loves you, though for the life of me, I can’t see why.”

It wasn’t his place to get involved with the Dominic family’s problems, but Felix had had enough of watching Annette cry over a man who had done nothing to deserve her love. His words might not change anything, but Gilbert’s self-pitying attitude had worn away the last frazzled scrap of patience Felix possessed. His boots echoed throughout the Cathedral as he stomped away, his heart aching painfully and the fury in his chest burning as brightly as Annette’s dazzling smile.

\---

Despite how his head began to pound again after the memorial service, Felix felt too restless to return to bed. He felt emotionally drained from standing in place for so long, forced to listen to the same words over and over again. His fingers itched to have something to do so he went to the one place that he always went to relieve stress: the training grounds. It had been a haven for him since Glenn died, so it was only natural that Felix would be drawn there when his father died too.

He railed against the training dummies for what felt like hours. He tried to empty his mind of the multitude of thoughts swirling around inside, hoping that an empty mind would make it easier to let go of the grief that was gripping his heart. 

_I hardly got along with my old man,_ Felix thought, swinging the practice sword savagely against the dummy. The blade splintered apart from the force of the blow and he stared at the useless hilt in his hand. _Why do I even care that he’s gone?_

By the time the sun began to set, Felix realized he was far past his limits and that his body was too weary to continue swinging against training dummies that would not fight back. His mind was no more settled than when he had first arrived, but he knew he was on the verge of collapsing now and that he needed to rest. There would be time enough later to continue this cleansing ritual when his body was still exhausted (he would always be exhausted as long as this war raged on) but less so than it was right now. 

He trudged past the dormitories with his hands shoved into his pockets and staring at his boots, bearing a striking resemblance to a surly teenager in his old, rumpled uniform. He always thought he’d been alone in the world since Glenn died. He hadn’t realized how important it was to have a father in his life, someone to whom he could return home despite their differences. Castle Fraldarius was always imposing and lonely with only the two of them and a multitude of servants to fill its halls, but somehow it had always been _home._ Felix was suddenly aware of how he’d taken his father for granted in life and now that he was gone, all he had left was a heart full of regret.

His dormitory room was small in comparison and sparsely decorated. He stood in the doorway and considered how it felt so empty and wondered if everywhere he went in his life now would feel this way. Felix could feel tears threatening to fall and steeled his resolve. 

_No more tears,_ he told himself. He shut the door and kicked off his boots into a corner of the room. He tore the formal blazer off and draped it over the back of the lone chair in his room before flopping face-first onto his bed. _I need to be strong. I don’t have time to grieve._

Felix felt his body sink into the wrinkled sheets and let out a long, ragged breath. His eyes closed of their own accord; his mind was blessedly too tired to form coherent thoughts now that he was finally laying down. He felt himself drifting into sleep, a comforting darkness pulling him away from reality until he knew no more.

\---

_Creak…_

The room was dark now except for a sliver of light filtering in from the doorway. Felix was disoriented and groggy, unsure of what had drawn him back to wakefulness. He didn’t have the energy to open his eyes yet, so he laid on the bed with his arm awkwardly hanging over the edge so that the tips of his fingers brushed the carpet. It wasn’t a very comfortable position and he could feel his right leg beginning to cramp but moving seemed too difficult while he still lingered on the cusp of sleep.

_Clink…_

Felix became aware that he was not alone in his room and that the light drifting into the room was because the door was standing ajar. A figure was moving quietly through the darkness and leaning over the table with something large and bulky in their hands. He could hear the intruder draw in a sharp breath as china clinked together. It wasn’t very loud, but it brought Felix further out of his sleep and he groaned weakly, rolling his shoulders as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Shh!” a feminine voice hissed at the offending china. It clinked again as she released her grip and stepped away. “Shh! He’ll wake up.”

“I don’t think china talks back, Annette,” Felix said. He raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed them to get the sleep out. “I’m already awake anyway.”

The figure—Annette—froze halfway between the table and the door. He could see her more clearly now that she was outlined in the light from the hallway. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Felix assured her. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Um…what did you bring?”

“Just some snacks for you,” Annette said. She turned to look at him, though her face was lost in shadow. “Ingrid was going to bring them, but Sylvain came by all of a sudden to speak with her, so she asked me if I could do it.”

Felix stood and fumbled on his nightstand for a candle. His eyes were starting to adjust to the dim lighting but if he was going to talk to Annette, he’d much rather do so when he could see her face. He’d barely spoken to her since the Battle of Gronder Field but if there was anyone who he would trust to see him in this state, dishevelled and bleary-eyed from the loss of his father, it was Annette. 

“Can you light this?” he asked, setting the candle on the table beside the tray. 

She didn’t reply. A moment later, a tiny flame blinked into existence. It wasn’t the brightest light, but Felix wasn’t sure where his other candles had ended up over the last several weeks, so it would have to do. He offered Annette a wan smile and took a seat at the table. His stomach rumbled ominously as he caught the scent of roasted chicken.

“I guess this is good timing,” Annette said, muffling a chuckle behind her hand. She was still wearing the same high-necked black dress from the memorial service. “There’s some leftover chicken, cheese, bread, and a handful of roasted potatoes. I wanted to bring tea, but we weren’t sure if you were awake, so there’s a jug of water instead. I can go bring some tea if you would prefer—"

“This is perfect,” Felix interrupted gently. “Thank you.”

Annette stood awkwardly in the middle of his room and bit her lower lip. It was one of her nervous habits. “I suppose I should go,” she said after a moment. “If you need anything…I’ll just be—”

“You can stay,” Felix blurted out suddenly. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t know how to tell her that. “If you want to, I mean.”

She blinked and her face flushed pink. Felix felt his own cheeks flush too and ducked his head to stare at the plate of food in front of him. He wondered if she had noticed and what she thought of it. 

_What if she doesn’t want to stay?_ Felix thought suddenly. He almost dropped his fork with the sudden chill that filled the pit of his stomach. He was painfully aware that he hadn’t had a proper shower in days and that his clothes were wrinkled beyond recognition. _Who’d want to stay with a man who can’t even keep it together?_

“I’d be happy to stay for a while,” Annette murmured. Felix’s head shot up and he saw how her blue eyes had gone wide with surprise. Her mouth was curved into a small smile. “If it’s not a bother.”

“It’s not,” he insisted immediately. His eyes flicked to the door. “Maybe close the door, if you don’t mind? I…don’t want to see anyone else right now.”

Annette nodded with solemn understanding and gently shut the door so that they were alone. Felix didn’t feel ready to deal with the sympathetic looks or words that Sylvain or Ingrid might offer if they happened to pass by, or anyone else for that matter. He’d already spent too much time doing just that today. But she was different; he was certain that Annette would be content to sit in silence if that was what he wished, simply offering the comfort of her presence. She seemed to understand his needs better than his best friends sometimes. 

“How are you feeling?” Annette asked softly, reaching for the jug of water and filling the china cup. “You look a little better than you did earlier.”

“I feel better now,” Felix admitted. He shovelled in another mouthful of chicken and potato. His stomach rumbled with satisfaction and his head was no longer aching. “I think sleeping helped.”

“Drink the water,” she counselled with a sagely nod. Her orange hair slipped over her shoulders and Felix wondered how soft it would feel between his fingers. “You’re probably dehydrated.”

Felix obediently did as she directed. She was right, of course; Annette had a shrewd eye for his health, a trait she had probably picked up by spending so much time with Mercedes. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. 

“You can sit there,” he said, sheepishly gesturing to the bed with the tousled covers. “Sorry, my room isn’t exactly fit for visitors right now…”

“It’s fine,” Annette said reassuringly. She took a seat and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and smiled sadly. “I understand. Cleaning is probably the last thing on your mind right now.”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed. He broke off a piece of cheese and reflected on the days since his father had died. Everything seemed to be a blur. He couldn’t remember exactly what he had been doing, other than fighting off the pain with training and drinking. “I’ll fix that for next time.”

“Take your time,” Annette said gently. “I know it takes a long time to heal from a loss like this. I’m so sorry…”

He heard her sniffle and swivelled quickly in his chair. Annette’s head was bowed as she tried to wipe away stray tears from her cheeks. 

“Annette—” he began.

“Sorry,” she said again. Her shoulders were trembling. “I didn’t mean to cry. I just…”

Felix set his fork down beside the empty plate and scooted beside her on the bed. He moved without thinking, closing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. Annette stiffened under his grip and he was keenly aware of how small and frail she felt beside him. After a moment, she slid her arm around his waist and relaxed slowly into his arm. It felt so calming to hold each other like this.

“I told you earlier,” he murmured slowly, feeling his own tears welling in his eyes again. He didn’t try to stop them this time. “It isn’t your fault. Trust me.”

“I trust you,” she said softly, drawing her knees up against her chest. “I just can’t imagine how difficult and painful this must be for you. I wish…”

She let the sentence falter into nothingness and tightened her arm around his waist as he cried into her hair. They sat in silence together and Felix couldn’t remember a time when he felt more at ease during a time of sorrow. He let his head rest on top of hers and sighed as the pain in his heart began to loosen its grip. Annette was soft and warm, and her hair smelled of citrus. Felix allowed himself to inhale her scent, trying to memorize how she fit so perfectly beside him. 

“I miss him,” Felix said unexpectedly. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell her that, but it felt right. “We never got along after Glenn died. I guess I never gave him a chance after that.”

Annette shifted under his arm and glanced up at Felix’s face through her lashes. “I think he understood,” she said at length. “He reminded me of you. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to know him better.”

“Me too,” Felix murmured. “It was only recently that we started to…really talk again. We started to feel like a family again.”

“Your father was a good man,” Annette told him. She smiled and the gentle love in it lifted Felix’s spirits. “I am sure he understood you more than you know.”

Felix desperately hoped that she was right. He closed his eyes and sighed again, releasing a long breath of pent-up anxiety. Annette’s voice was enough to soothe his nerves but feeling her presence against his side kept him grounded. The pain was easier to handle now that she was here to ease his fears and lend a listening ear to his regrets. 

“He told me that he loved me,” Felix whispered, his voice almost too soft to be heard. He could feel his shoulders shaking and tears falling down his cheeks. “He’s never told me that before, not since Glenn died.” He paused and drew his own legs close to his chest and buried his face in his knees. “I treated him like shit my whole life. I don’t deserve that—”

“Don’t say that!” Annette interrupted loudly. She squirmed out of his arm and threw hers around his shoulders. “Nobody is undeserving of love. People make mistakes; it just means you’re human.”

Felix sucked in a breath. 

“It’s okay to have regrets,” she went on gently as she tightened her arms around him, pulling him closer against her. “But don’t say you don’t deserve his love. He would be so sad to hear that.”

There is something freeing in sharing one’s pain with another. Felix was not used to being vulnerable; he’d spent so long training his mind and body to fight, to hide behind high walls and avoid feeling anything at all. He hadn’t trusted anyone since Glenn died a pointless death and Dimitri lost his sanity. He hadn’t even given his father a chance to make amends for the harsh, thoughtless words he spoke from a place of grief until it was far too late. The pain of his own grief had burdened his heart for years and he’d kept it all inside, never allowing anyone to truly see how much he was hurting. 

He had never known anyone as hopeful as Annette. She smiled through her own pain and reached out her hand to a broken man in need as if her own burdens were as light as a feather. She had an uncanny ability to see the good in others, no matter how abrasive they might be. Annette possessed a selflessness that Felix knew he could never match; people were drawn to her because of how freely she offered her love to the world around her. 

It was why Felix loved her too.

Nestled against her chest, Felix felt his tears fall freely and his muscles relax as she murmured comforting words into his hair. He felt safe with Annette. He knew that she would never laugh at his weaknesses or belittle his regrets. He realized—perhaps for the first time—that he trusted Annette with his life. It was a curious feeling to become aware of something so fundamentally opposite of how he had lived his life until this point: Felix had vowed to fight for himself, to never allow himself to care for another person the way Glenn and Dimitri had done, and to never rely on someone else. Yet with her songs and her smile, Annette had shattered everything Felix had worked so hard to build. 

He loved her for that.

“Thank you,” Felix finally managed. His voice was soft and raspy from tears, but his heart had never felt so light. “I hope that you’re right.”

She smiled and loosened her grip on his shoulders. “Do you know the _Lament for the Lost?_ ” Annette asked, tilting her head inquisitively. Felix shook his head. “It was written a very long time ago by a poet whose name has been lost to the ages. It goes like this…”

Annette cleared her throat and sat back on her knees across from Felix. 

_Do not fear for us who are left behind,  
We will not forget your memory.  
You must begin a new journey toward a new dawn,  
So remember, until the day we meet again,  
You will be never be lost._

Felix closed his eyes as she sang and lost himself in the beauty of her song. Annette’s voice was pure and clear, not drawing him out of his grief but allowing him to accept it. It was a song that tugged at Felix’s heart, reminding him of the memory of his lost mother, his lost brother, and now his lost father. He missed them all and he grieved them all—and there was no weakness in it.

“It’s called a lament,” Annette said after a moment. She smiled and Felix felt his heart flutter in his chest. “But I like it because it’s hopeful. The people we lose are never truly lost to us.”

The candle was burning low now. Annette’s eyes were bright in the darkness and her presence was a comfort in his grief. Felix reached out to draw her into his embrace without thinking, tightening his arms around her and holding her so closely that she gasped in surprise. She rested her head against his chest and wound her own arms around his back. It felt so right to hold each other like this, to know that they needn’t navigate the shoals of grief alone. 

“Please don’t leave yet,” Felix whispered. His voice sounded small and vulnerable to his own ears. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please?”

Annette tightened her fingers against his back and nodded against his chest. “I won’t,” she whispered back. Her voice was soft and warm. “You don’t ever have to be alone.”

Felix didn’t have words left. He sighed and laid back against the pillow with Annette nestled in his arms, her hair splayed across his chest. She sang softly under her breath as they laid in the darkness long after the candle went out, songs of their childhood in Faerghus that brought back the memories of happier times. It was not long before Felix felt his eyes close and his mind begin to drift into sleep, too weary even to cry anymore. He could still hear Annette’s voice as he fell further into slumber, lulling him into the deepest rest he had had in a very long time. 

Something soft pressed against his forehead as he drifted away, but Felix was asleep before he could register what it was.

\---

When Felix woke the following morning, dawn had long since passed. A warm light drifted past his half-closed drapes across the floor. He could feel Annette still snuggled under his arm and heard her slow, steady breathing as she slept. He smiled foolishly at her, remembering how she’d said long ago that she wasn’t a morning person and hardly daring to believe that she was here, that she had waited for him all this time. He might not ever understand why she had chosen him, but Felix didn’t want to question it. He was just happy that she had. 

Gently disentangling himself from her, Felix slipped out of the bed and pulled the covers back up over Annette. She groaned happily in her sleep as he tucked her in, though she didn’t stir to wakefulness. Her face looked peaceful, orange hair falling across her cheek and one hand poking out from under the covers. Felix went about gathering fresh clothes as quietly as he could, carefully avoiding the floorboards that tended to creak and glancing over his shoulder at Annette’s sleeping form with equal parts wonder and concern in case he woke her.

He paused on his way out of the room to gaze down at her and found himself smiling again. The pain he’d felt for so long had finally begun to ease and it was in great part because of her kindness all these years. Felix hesitated above her for a long moment before bending forward to press his lips gently against her forehead. He allowed himself to linger in the kiss for a half-second longer than his instincts were telling him to, and when he pulled away, Felix thought he was beginning to understand what it meant to love. 

Felix gently shut the door behind him and made a beeline for the showers. It was long past time that he began taking care of himself properly again and there was nothing like a warm shower to wash away the grime of war and the remnants of sorrow. He stepped out feeling like a new man, fresh and ready to take on the challenge of living out his life as the last heir of House Fraldarius. He was aware that it would be difficult, and that the grief for the loss of his father would hang heavy on his heart for a long time yet, but Felix felt ready to begin moving forward again. He was not a reckless man, but neither was he afraid of a challenge.

He entered the Cathedral with the intention of offering a final goodbye to his father, to tell him that he was sorry for his own faults and promise that neither he nor Glenn nor his mother would be forgotten. He didn’t feel it necessary to mention Annette; he was certain his father had already known about them. Felix was wiser now than he had been just after his Academy days. He understood why his father had spoken the way he had back then; it wasn’t personal against her. It had never been personal—in better times, that conversation may never even have happened.

When the heavy doors creaked open some time after Felix arrived, he found himself unsurprised. He heard the familiar footsteps echoing through the empty Cathedral as they approached the place where he stood. He stood at ease, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“I have a question for you,” Felix said as the footsteps came to a stop. He didn’t turn around to face the man behind him. “I suggest you answer quickly before I cut you down here and now.”

“Always so ominous,” Dimitri said with a chuckle. “Speak.”

“When I look at you, I sometimes see a boar,” Felix said slowly. He stared at his father’s casket and the words became harder. “Other times, I see a man. Which is the real you?”

Dimitri snorted derisively. “A pointless question to which you already know the answer,” he said. “Both faces are mine. I have seen countless friends slaughtered before my very eyes—who would not be affected by that?”

“Is that how you justify your actions?” Felix grunted, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It felt oddly normal to speak to Dimitri like this despite how they hadn’t had a real conversation in years. 

“If I do not shoulder the regret and pain of the dead, who will?” Dimitri asked quietly. He sounded pensive, as though this was a question he had been grappling with for some time. 

“They’re dead,” Felix said harshly, rounding on him. His eyes were blazing with the fire of loss and the challenge of moving forward. “The dead don’t care about those things once they’re gone from this world. It’s selfish to believe otherwise.”

“You’re wrong,” Dimitri insisted, shaking his head like an old lion. “I will neither forget them nor let them go, only to be forgotten as time passes.”

_So remember, until the day we meet again,_ Felix thought, recalling the words Annette had sung for him, _You will be never be lost._

“I’m not,” Felix said, folding his arms across his chest and holding Dimitri’s gaze. “If you keep stringing gravestones around your neck, you’ll snap. You’d do better to be a grave keeper rather than a king.”

Dimitri chuckled again. “A king is a grave keeper of a sort,” he said. He looked upward toward the broken ceiling. The sky above was bright with the light of the golden sun. “He is responsible for the deaths of all his people. A king must merely learn to balance the two roles so that one does not consume the other.”

They stood in silence for a long moment as the sun warmed the tiled floor beneath their feet. It was oddly poetic that the Goddess had seen fit to bring the two of them together in this life, both having experienced the loss of a family they shared. In some ways, Dimitri was the only other person in the world who could truly understand the depth of grief and the pain of the loss that Felix was still processing. He had been Lord Rodrigue’s other son, always loved and welcomed in the Fraldarius fold. Felix had been jealous, once.

Not anymore.

“I haven’t gone a day without wondering why Glenn and my father had to die while I survived,” he said at length. There was no venom to the words, no accusations. It wasn’t Dimitri’s fault either; Lord Rodrigue had made his choice. “I will carry this pain with me until the day I die. However, I will _never_ lose myself in it. I have other things to live for that are far more important.”

Dimitri grinned and Felix saw the face of his old friend in it. He was not quite whole—none of them were, not after the horrors they had experienced—but he was alive. “You remind me of Glenn,” Dimitri told him with a laugh. “Allow me to thank you. You have opened my eyes to something I had lost.”

Felix raised a curious eyebrow, but Dimitri did not elaborate. “It wasn’t my intention,” he said gruffly. “I just couldn’t stand to see you looking so pitiful any longer.”

“I’m grateful,” Dimitri inclined his head and his expression grew sombre. “I’m sorry for your loss, Felix.”

He did not offer any other empty words of sympathy. He did not try to shoulder the fault for Lord Rodrigue’s death. It was these things, more than anything else, that showed Felix his old friend had returned. 

“And I yours,” Felix said, holding out his hand. “May we work together to build a future worthy of our father’s pride, Your Majesty.”

“It will be so, Your Grace,” Dimitri said formally, accepting Felix’s proffered hand and squeezing it tightly. 

Somewhere high above them, a dove began to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we covered a lot of ground in this chapter! I hope there was enough angst and fluff to satisfy you :) If you're wondering about the other Dimitri supports, let's assume they happened off-screen during Annette's chapters earlier in the fic. Honestly, this one just seemed to fit here as a nice way to bring Dimitri back from the edge of insanity, so I wanted to incorporate it. 
> 
> A few unexpected things happened this past week which impacted my writing schedule, so I didn't get as far as I wanted to unfortunately. I'm planning on dropping posts to once a week on Sundays so I hope to stay ahead, but we'll see. If not, there will just be a bit of a longer delay between updates :) Then it will be on the next fic! Oh ho ho!
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your patience. I hope you liked this chapter :)
> 
> Love, Kami


	30. A Homecoming

Annette woke to scent of Felix. 

Her mind was momentarily disoriented as she pushed herself into a sitting position and stretched her arms high above her head. She glanced around the small room and caught sight of Felix sitting in the rickety chair at the table bent over a plate of food. His hair looked damp and was hanging loose over his shoulders. Annette vaguely wondered how long he’d been awake if he’d had the time to go shower and bring back breakfast before the reality of the situation finally caught up with her.

_I must have slept here all night!_ Annette thought with a sudden flash of embarrassment. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Felix—quite the opposite, in fact—but rather that she had the sudden fear that she had overstayed her welcome. This wasn’t anything like how she’d imagined she might one day wake up beside him. 

The panic must have shown in her face because when Felix realized she was awake he cast her a confused glance and gestured to the table. “Good morning,” he said casually, as if this was something they did regularly. “You slept an awfully long time. Are you hungry?”

Annette blinked with surprise and rubbed her eyes hastily. “Yeah,” she said quickly, running her fingers through her tangled hair. She’d probably need to take a shower after this too. “Um…sorry about last night.”

Felix raised an eyebrow and stared at her for a long moment. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who cried into your shoulder all night.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep here!” Annette explained hastily. She could feel her cheeks reddening as she spoke. “I should have left once you fell asleep—”

“It’s fine,” Felix interrupted. His own face was going pink and he glanced away from her. “I asked you to stay, didn’t I? Come on, I brought breakfast back. It’s the least I could do,” he added in a lower voice.

Caught between hunger and embarrassment, Annette’s growling stomach won out. She hopped off the bed to stand beside Felix’s chair and grabbed a fresh roll that she was sure Mercedes must have baked that morning. Felix watched her like a wary cat. He looked like he was afraid that she might bolt from the room if he moved too suddenly. Something in the way he sat on the edge of the chair, his amber eyes watching her every movement with an intensity that betrayed his own nervousness made Annette feel less anxious. 

“Did you bring tea as well?” she asked between mouthfuls of bread and eyeing the apple porridge with interest. Felix had moved off the chair so that she could sit at his table and was already fiddling with the pot.

“Mercedes told me that you liked Almond Blend,” Felix admitted. He set the cup in front of her and took a seat on his recently vacated bed. 

Everything felt so bizarrely normal that it would have been downright pleasant if not for the nervous tension between them. Felix didn’t seem to know where to look in the tiny room and eventually settled for staring at his feet. For her part, Annette managed to scarf down her entire meal in less than ten minutes and realized she was staring into her teacup at the last dregs of liquid without having bothered to refill it even once. 

“Thank you for bringing the food,” she finally managed. Annette was proud that her voice was steady despite how she suddenly felt like an awkward teenager again. “I _was_ pretty hungry.”

“Don’t mention it,” Felix muttered. “I was already out visiting my father…and I was hungry too.”

“I see,” Annette replied gravely. She folded her hands in her lap and considered him for a moment. His shoulders looked more relaxed and his face looked reflective, as though he had defeated some of the demons plaguing his every step. “Is everything all right? You seem…different.”

Felix was silent. He continued to stare at his feet, fingers steepled in front of him and his dark hair hanging by his face. It looked like silk in the morning sunlight and Annette wished she could twist her fingers through it like she had the night before. She wasn’t used to seeing Felix looking so casually handsome in a sleeveless black turtleneck shirt and loose hair falling over his shoulders. If he hadn’t been mourning the death of his father, she might have accused him of doing this to purposely tease her. 

“I spoke to Dimitri this morning,” Felix said into the silence. Annette’s ears perked up at that; he hardly ever spoke of Dimitri by name. “We came to an understanding.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Annette exclaimed, clapping her hands together and smiling widely. Felix looked surprised by her enthusiasm, but he nodded in agreement all the same. 

“He’ll never be who he was,” Felix said slowly. His eyes were distant, and Annette realized he was reflecting on their shared past. There was a mix of pain and relief in his gaze. “But he’s alive now. I could see it in his face.”

“That may be so,” she agreed, reaching out and laying her hands over his own. “But we all change, for better or for worse. This is surely for the better.”

“You’re right,” he said. The corners of his mouth began to curve into a tiny smile. “It’s a start, anyway.”

She smiled back, aware of how her eyes reflected the depth of her feelings for him. Annette supposed that it was all right—he had held her close against his body throughout the night, unwilling to be alone in his grief and trusting her enough to be his source of comfort. 

_Besides,_ Annette thought as she turned to slip on her shoes. _He knows how I feel. It’s not a secret and I’m not ashamed of it._

“I should go and freshen up,” she said, reaching for the door handle and glancing over her shoulder. “There’s much to be done around here, you know. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“I’d like that,” Felix said quietly. He paused and added, “Annette…thank you.”

“Always,” she replied, smiling back at him. 

\---

One hot shower and several hours spent tending to the greenhouse later, Annette finally found herself sitting with Mercedes in a secluded courtyard surrounded by overgrown hedges and a wide array of wildflowers. It was far from the dormitories and the usual haunts of their closest friends, meaning it was a perfect place to confer with each other about their secrets, their hopes, and their dreams. Things were so busy lately that there hadn’t been many opportunities to simply sit together and talk the way they used to before the war broke out. Annette had always enjoyed spending time alone with Mercedes because she always offered a fresh perspective on the world that Annette hadn’t considered.

Today, she needed that more than ever.

It was early evening and the sun was just starting to sink beneath the horizon, staining the sky with a swirl of brilliant pink and orange, when the two women settled beside each other on an old, weatherworn bench. Mercedes looked exhausted from her shift in the infirmary—she alternated her time between that and the kitchens, although more of her time was being devoted to the former recently. Annette supposed she probably didn’t look much better; one night sleeping soundly in Felix’s arms wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the countless others where she’d hardly slept at all. 

“Are you holding up all right, Annie?” Mercedes asked kindly with a weary smile. “You’ve been running yourself ragged. I’m worried you’ll fall ill.”

“I’m fine,” Annette assured her friend. “You’d be the first to hear about it if I wasn’t, I daresay.”

“Certainly,” Mercedes agreed with a chuckle. “If not from the Professor or Ingrid, I’m sure Felix would carry you right to the infirmary if necessary.”

Annette felt her face flush pink at the mental image of him carrying her all that distance through Garreg Mach, although she couldn’t deny that Mercedes was right. He had done similar once before. “Tell me, Mercie, how are you doing? Are there still many injuries to treat?”

“Yes,” Mercedes replied gravely. She folded her hands in her lap and glanced up into the sky with a thoughtful expression that Annette had come to associate with her faith in the Goddess. “Many of the soldiers who survived at Gronder Field are still in critical condition. Frankly, it’s exhausting. We have neither enough supplies nor enough personnel to properly care for everyone.”

It was a hard truth. Despite the success at Gronder Field, the Kingdom losses had been significant enough that Annette couldn’t see how they could possibly march on Enbarr with any hope of success. Without an alliance with Leicester, their supplies would continue to dwindle faster than they could replenish them, and that meant injuries could not be treated as quickly or effectively. There simply wasn’t enough of anything anymore. 

“Just take care of yourself,” Annette said. She bent down to pick a purple flower that resembled Mercedes’ eyes and twirled it between her fingers. The petals quivered from the motion, but it was young and strong, and none fell. “It wouldn’t do for you to end up in your own infirmary!” 

“I know,” the other woman nodded. “I’m just worried about our next course of action. I hope the Professor has a plan. We can’t afford to take any major losses.”

“I want this war to end,” Annette murmured. She spun the flower between her fingers until the colours blurred in her vision and wondered how her mother was doing all way back in Barony Dominic, far from the frontlines but no less burdened by it. She had a daughter and a wayward husband there who could die long before she would hear of it. “I’m sick of watching people we knew and loved die.”

“So am I,” Mercedes agreed. She folded her hands together and bowed her head reverently, blonde hair shining in the fading light. “I pray that the Goddess sees fit to deliver us all from this quickly.”

Annette bowed her own head in prayer as well, letting her eyelids flutter closed and trying to keep the clawing fear of losing her loved ones at bay. There was always a chance—a probability, more accurately—that many of them would die before the end, an end which was not even in sight. When her nightmares were not filled with the bloodless face of Lorenz, she would dream of Mercedes with a lance through her torso, lips parted with a last echoing cry that would wake Annette from her admittedly poor slumber. She had dreamt of each of her friends like that, lifeless corpses that haunted her nights and shadowed her days. Even her father was a frequent guest in her nightmares and she couldn’t suppress a shiver of raw terror whenever she would wake to see the little Annette-doll staring at her from where it sat in a sliver of silver moonlight, wondering if that might be the last thing she would have to remember him by. 

“What will you do if we get through this war alive?” Annette asked her friend in a soft voice. Despite the hope she clung to, it didn’t feel right to insinuate that they would win. There was so much at stake and they were all well past the point of exhaustion. They saw death every day and every night, and it was only a matter of time before they too would be released into the Goddess’ embrace.

“I suppose I would like to work with poor and suffering,” Mercedes said at last, her voice gentle and kind. Annette didn’t think that she had a selfish bone in her whole body. “So many people across this world have been dispossessed by this war. The least I can do is work to help them.”

“That is very admirable, and no less what I would have expected from you,” Annette said. She smiled sweetly at her friend and tucked the purple flower behind Mercedes’ ear. “This world would be a much happier place if more people were like you, Mercie.”

“Perhaps,” Mercedes smiled serenely. “What about you, Annie? What will you do once this war is over?”

It was a fair question, and she had asked it first; it was only right that she answer it as well. Annette stared into the sky where the sun had continued to fall lower and the towers of Garreg Mach began to resemble black spikes piercing the beauty of it all. She supposed that it depended on the outcome of the war, whether it was won or lost by the Kingdom she loved. Likely, she would die if they lost the battle in Enbarr, killed to make an example of a traitor to the regime she hated. It would be a glorious death, if you looked at it from one perspective, but Annette was too jaded for that. If, by some miracle of the Goddess, they managed to win and to come through this horror in one piece, what was left for her in Faerghus?

_A poor house that will forever be marred with the brand of traitor to the Kingdom,_ she thought sadly. She thought about how her uncle had allied with Cornelia and claimed that it was for the best, that they would be safest on the side of the Empire. They had an army, after all; Annette had seen it in full force long before it reached Faerghus. _The Dominic name is smeared. My uncle will be forced to retire if he’s lucky—Dimitri could choose to have him killed for what he has done._

There were many things that Annette wanted to do with her life, if she was being honest with herself. She wanted to reunite her mother and father, allowing them an opportunity to begin to heal from the wounds they had carried with them for so many years. She wanted to share her knowledge of magic with anyone who was willing to listen, to teach young men and women how to defend themselves from the evils of the world and the demons of their own lives. She wanted to sing and dance, sharing the joy of life with her friends and family to the end of her days. 

Annette wanted many things in her life and after five long years apart, she knew the one thing she didn’t want to give up was Felix. It hurt to know that he was right, that there was always a possibility that he would die before this war was done and that it would hurt beyond telling if that came to pass. It scared Annette to think that even if they did come through this waking nightmare alive, there was no guarantee that they would spend their lives together. Love is a force to be reckoned with, but it cannot be contained or controlled; you allowed it to flow as it would, carrying you far from the person you had been and hoping it would bring you to the side of the one who would understand those changes, and love you for them still. 

“I don’t know,” Annette replied truthfully. 

\---

It wasn’t until the following day that Professor Byleth recommenced their usual war councils. Annette supposed that this was because she wanted to give Felix—and the rest of them—as much time as possible to deal with the loss of Lord Rodrigue before they were inevitably drawn back into the necessities of managing the campaign against the Empire. Fighting did not cease simply because they had lost an important general—in fact, it provided a perfect opening for the Empire to advance while they scurried to fill the void that Lord Rodrigue had left behind. There was no place for prolonged grief in war; it was a luxury none of them could afford to indulge in.

The mood which permeated the council chamber was downcast as Annette settled herself between Mercedes and Ashe. There was a distinct hole between her father and Felix where Lord Rodrigue would have sat had things not happened the way that they had. The two men whom she loved sat stiffly on either side of the chasm between them, deliberately ignoring the other’s presence. It was heartbreaking for Annette to witness, though she could not find it in her heart to blame them. She loved them both, flaws and all. 

“Thank you all for gathering here despite the recent events,” Professor Byleth began quietly, settling herself at the head of the table and surveying the Blue Lions with equanimity. “I understand how difficult it is to lose a father and a friend.” She paused and added, “I regret that we must resume our war efforts so soon. Sir Gilbert, will you please provide us with a report of our status?”

“Certainly,” Gilbert rumbled. He glanced around the room and Annette noticed that his eyes were much colder than the Professor’s had been. He was a hard man, and these were hard times. “Our victory at Gronder Field was hugely impactful for our campaign. Despite the high losses, we have secured a route deep into Empire territory.”

Professor Byleth jotted down some notes on a piece of parchment and frowned at the map spread out on the table. “We lost many good soldiers,” she agreed. “Lord Rodrigue is the foremost among them.”

“There are few other lords we can rely on in the Kingdom at this point,” Gilbert went on as though she hadn’t spoken. “Margrave Gautier is too far away to assist, and he’s still dealing with Cornelia. We still have the Fraldarius soldiers Lord Rodrigue brought us at Ailell, but the rest are working with Margrave Gautier against Cornelia’s hold on the Kingdom.”

“We would need to split out the soldiers we currently have to defend Garreg Mach and march with the rest to Enbarr,” Sylvain supplied as Gilbert paused for a breath. His eyes rested on Ingrid as though she was the only other person in the room. “It would barely be enough for a successful invasion. We will likely suffer heavy losses if we proceed south like this.”

Several people shifted uncomfortably at Sylvain’s words and Ingrid looked away, her face flushing despite not being a direct part of the conversation, but nobody denied that he was right. Although the Empire had lost soldiers as well, their losses were not nearly so grievous. They had been prepared for war and had a multitude of people to conscript into active service. Without control of their own country, the Kingdom army lacked a ready supply of soldiers to train to fight and die. They relied on stragglers making their way to Garreg Mach and volunteering, a solution which wasn’t reliable enough to be truly viable.

The door to the council chamber swung open into the silence and Dimitri strode in looking more human than he had in years. Annette noticed immediately that Felix was right when he said the prince looked alive now—he’d trimmed his shaggy hair and his armour no longer bore the remnants of old blood. Yet the most telling feature was Dimitri’s good eye. The ice had melted from his gaze, replaced with a look of sincere remorse.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” Dimitri said quietly despite how his voice carried through the room. “May I have a moment of your time?”

He stood beside the Professor’s chair and scanned the room expectantly. 

“Your Highness,” Dedue broke the silence a split-second after the shock of his changed appearance wore off. “You should be resting! Allow us to handle—”

“I appreciate your concern, Dedue,” Dimitri held up a hand and his retainer fell silent. He did not look angry, Annette noticed, merely grateful for the other man’s concern. “Rest assured, I am fine. Moreover, I need to be here.”

“We are glad you have joined us,” Professor Byleth interjected gently. She smiled more brightly than Annette had seen her do in months. The exhaustion seemed to fade from her green eyes as she watched Dimitri stand before the assembled men and women of Faerghus. “Speak.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri said humbly. He paused for a moment as if to steady himself before plunging forward into the unknown. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion and his blue eye was pleading. “I wish to apologize to you all. I have acted selfishly and forced you all to indulge me in that selfishness. I have caused all of you—nay, all of Faerghus—so much pain.”

He stood alone before them, tears sliding silently down his cheeks. All eyes in the room were fixed on Dimitri, all ears perked to catch every word he spoke. Annette thought it must be so difficult for him to do this, to stand before the friends he had hurt for so long and beg their forgiveness his actions. She longed to stand and pull him into her arms, to tell him that everything would be all right, that he was loved and had always been loved, and that he was forgiven.

She held back, knowing it wasn’t her place to do these things, not yet.

“There is nothing I can do to apologize sufficiently for all that I have done,” Dimitri went on. His voice was steady despite the tears. “I will spend my whole life working to atone for my sins. I am so very sorry for everything.”  


He drew in a deep breath and Annette could see it reverberate throughout his entire body. 

“If you are truly sorry,” Felix said softly, his amber eyes burning with the fire of a grief that was still too close to the surface. “You know what you must do. Speak through your actions—I care naught for pretty, empty words.”

“I understand,” Dimitri acknowledged Felix with a nod, their eyes locked together with an ancient bond that no one else could quite fathom. It was as though they could communicate without the need for words. “I know that there is no amount of regret that can bring the dead back to the world of the living. Truly, there is no greater insult to the living than to live like the dead.”

“Now,” Felix said, gesturing to the empty chair beside him. His mouth quirked upwards into a fierce smile, dangerous and proud. “You truly understand. My old man would be happy.”

Once, not so long ago, those words would have been dripping with acid, intended to scar and hurt. The two men would have stood opposite each other and radiated hate for what the other had become, unable to comprehend what had led each of them down such starkly similar paths to such starkly different destinations. Their story could have been a tragedy through to the end, had certain things not happened the way that they had. 

_We cannot always know why things happen the way that they do,_ Annette thought. She felt her own expression softening into joy with the knowledge that their family of Blue Lions was finally whole again. _It is what we do with each experience, both good and bad, that really matters._

“Welcome home,” Professor Byleth murmured. The look of pure relief in her eyes was infectious. 

“I will work hard to do what is right from here on out,” Dimitri said at length, settling himself between Felix on his right and Sir Gilbert on his left. “Therefore, I have made a decision.” He hesitated and Annette recognized a flicker of determination flash in his expression. “No longer will we march on Enbarr. I intend first to take back Fhirdiad and release my people from the yoke of Imperial control. I have already made them wait far too long while I wallowed in depths of my despair.”

A collective gasp followed this pronouncement. Only Felix and Professor Byleth looked unsurprised by this change of course, and both looked approving. Dimitri sat quietly in his seat as the others murmured amongst themselves, allowing them to begin to process exactly what this meant for all of them. They had been focused on moving south for so long that the idea of turning in the complete opposite direction was almost foreign. They had all spoken of this in hushed tones, frequently bemoaning how difficult it would be to face Edelgard with the Imperial army stationed both ahead and behind them. Without an alliance with Leicester or taking back Faerghus, their supplies and support would continue to dwindle. 

“Do you still intend to march on Enbarr once we secure Fhirdiad?” Ingrid ventured after the chatter had died down. 

“Yes,” Dimitri affirmed. He considered the map before continuing. “Winning back Fhirdiad is not only necessary for my own peace of mind, but also for the long-term success of our campaign. We need the supplies and the people of Faerghus, or we will have no hope of winning.”

“Your Highness is correct,” Gilbert nodded slowly. He closed his eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. “I have faithfully served the royal family since I was old enough to wield a blade. I am overjoyed that we will be able to finally fight for our homeland’s freedom.”

Annette tried not to let her father’s words bother her. She was used to hearing him put the Kingdom before his own family. It was what had led her to Garreg Mach in the first place. 

_I suppose I ought to be grateful,_ she thought wryly. _If not for him, I may never have come here and met all of my friends._

“The Emperor will wait for me,” Dimitri said. It was a statement of fact, not a wish. “I will never be able to let go of all the hate and pain in my heart for all that she has done and failed to do. However, my life is my own again. I will no longer allow myself to be used by my own thirst for revenge.”

“You make valid points,” Professor Byleth smiled at him. Annette could not remember a time when she had looked happier. “I agree that this plan is our best course of action. I trust there are no objections?”

“What of Lady Rhea?” Mercedes asked, her brow creased with worry. 

“We assume she is in Enbarr,” Professor Byleth said. “If that deduction is correct, we’re still left with the same problem as before: we lack the resources to ensure we are successful if we march south now.”

“She’s probably been held in Enbarr since the fall of Garreg Mach,” Sylvain pointed out pragmatically. “It’s unfortunate, but I doubt changing our course to Fhirdiad will have much effect on her at this point.”

Mercedes did not look comforted by this, but she could not deny that it was likely true. She had believed in Lady Rhea and trusted her to relay the tidings of the Goddess. Annette squeezed her friend’s hand under the table reassuringly, hoping that Mercedes would understand that this did not mean she would be left to languish in Enbarr forever.

“I understand,” Mercedes said, her tone sounding slightly resigned, though she did return the squeeze. “In that case, I have no objections. I will follow your lead in this.”

“You know that I will follow wherever you lead,” Dedue murmured loyally. It was not long before the others began to chorus their own agreement with this new plan, loudly proclaiming that they were more than ready to reclaim their homeland. 

“I will help you as well, in my father’s stead,” Felix said last of all. The words were soft, yet there was an edge to them. “In return, you must win. There can be no other outcome.”

“I know,” Dimitri agreed. He held Felix’s eyes unflinchingly and grinned, baring his teeth rather like a lion. “I swear on my father’s lance that we will win.”

“It is decided,” Professor Byleth declared, standing suddenly and leaning over the table. There was a renewed vigor to her movements. “We have much to discuss in order to make this possible. I will call for refreshments—I suspect we will be here for quite some time yet.”

\---

The last days of Great Tree Moon bled into Harpstring Moon all too quickly. War councils became longer as they prepared for a northern campaign, and Annette found herself grateful that they would be doing this in springtime rather than the dead of winter. Travel north would be slow with the spring rains to muddy the ground, but anything was better than fighting through snow and ice. Although the Blue Lions and the bulk of their soldiers would not be heading to Fhirdiad until nearer to the end of the month, Professor Byleth was already readying an advance siege force to march within the next several days under the leadership of Sir Gilbert. They would rendezvous with the resistance force under Margrave Gautier to besiege Fhirdiad itself before the rest of the army arrived to support the effort.

Each of the Blue Lions fell back into their normal routines around the Monastery in an attempt to prepare as much as possible before they departed for Fhirdiad. Annette felt like she rarely saw any of her friends for more than a few minutes at a time lately, but she refused to let it bother her. She knew how important it was for Mercedes to devote her time to injured and sick now, to heal them before more were added to their ranks in the infirmary. She understood how important it was for Ashe and Dedue to stockpile dried foods for the campaign and redoubled her own efforts in the greenhouse to coax the plants to grow quickly and bountifully. She recognized how important it was for Felix to depart on rotating scouting missions with Ingrid or Sylvain—there was always a chance the Empire would make a move against Garreg Mach, after all. It was lonely, but if it meant they could retake Fhirdiad and free their homeland, Annette knew it was for the best.

Evening was falling as Annette finally made her way to the last of the ferns that needed her attention. She had already finished fertilizing the tomato plants, the potatoes and the carrots, and all the other fruits and vegetables that Professor Byleth had requested she grow. It was tiring work, and as she wiped the perspiration from her brow Annette wondered when anyone else would have time to visit this place simply to enjoy the vitality that she was nurturing. 

“Not to worry,” Annette said to the flowering ferns as she bent to water the roots, “I’m sure the others will visit and admire your beauty when there’s time.”

The flowers didn’t respond, of course. They never did, but Annette spoke to them all the same. 

“The flowers are all nearly taken care of now,” she continued lightly. Annette hummed to the flowers as turned the corner into a new row of flowers and stumbled directly into the path of the last person she would have expected to see. “Felix! I thought you had patrols this week. Have you been hiding here this whole time?”

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. “I switched with Sylvain,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “And I’m not hiding.”

“You’re literally standing in the last row of this greenhouse behind the biggest, leafiest ferns I’ve planted,” Annette pointed out with raised eyebrows. She held the watering can loosely in one hand and felt her lips quirk into a smile. “You’re definitely hiding. You could have come and said hello.”

Felix didn’t say anything. He was watching the ground with his hands clasped behind his back looking like a scolded schoolboy. Annette wondered how long he’d been there—she hadn’t heard anyone come in through the front entrance. It was a pleasant surprise to see him here when he rightfully shouldn’t have been in the Monastery grounds at all. There hadn’t been time to spend together after the night they had shared, and Annette had missed his closeness all the more after she’d had a taste of what it really felt like. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said, flicking his eyes to hers now. He looked unsure of himself and something in his gaze gave Annette pause. 

“That’s silly,” Annette declared, trying to hide her sudden anxiousness. She set the watering can down so that he wouldn’t think she was preparing to throw it at him again. “Why are you here then?”

He didn’t respond right away. Annette felt too warm despite how she’d left her capelet hanging in her closet and pushed the sleeves of her dress up past her elbows so that she could work more comfortably. She was aware of how unkempt she must look with dirt stuck under fingernails and her hair tied over her shoulder in a loose, slightly tangled ponytail. It was ridiculous to think she might have decided to dress more carefully had she known Felix wouldn’t be away from the Monastery after all, but part of her wished she had thought more about her appearance that morning. 

“You don’t even have a real reason to be here, do you?” Annette asked after a moment. Her heart was starting to beat faster in her chest.

“Not...exactly,” Felix said slowly.

“Then why—" Annette began.

“I came to see you,” he replied abruptly, cutting across her words. 

“Me?” Annette repeated in disbelief. She felt her face flushing and desperately reached for something to say. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

_It does make sense, though,_ a small voice whispered in Annette’s mind. _He already admitted he shares your feelings. Wouldn’t it make absolute sense that he would want to see you?_

“I want you to sing for me,” Felix said.

His honestly shocked Annette into silence. Her mind went curiously blank as she tried to come to terms with what he’d said. The courage that she’d felt confronting him under the moonlight was suddenly, horrifyingly absent. She wondered if he’d planned this meeting, if he’d actually intended for her to find him but her voice seemed have abandoned her, so she had no way of asking. His eyes were fixed on her now and Annette didn’t dare look away.

“I hear your voice all the time,” Felix explained somewhat desperately. The words came quickly, as if it might be less terrifying for him to admit it if he let everything out without pausing for a breath. “Whether you’re with me or not, I hear you when I sleep and when I fight. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing,” he added with a sudden intensity. “It’s like I’m your captive.”

“My captive?” Annette repeated stupidly. She felt her cheeks go scarlet at the implication and forced a laugh. It came out sounding rather more strangled than she would have liked and did nothing to lighten the mood. “I…don’t know what to say, Felix. I’m pretty flustered now, to be honest.”

Felix’s eyes had gone wide and he looked like he wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up beneath his feet and swallow him down into hell. “I can’t help it,” he stammered, turning awkwardly away. “Forget I said anything. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Felix, are you blushing?” Annette asked curiously, taking a careful step closer. 

“No,” he lied, blushing a deeper shade of red even as he tried to deny it. He averted his gaze again. “Shut up. I’m not blushing.”

Annette’s heart was pounding painfully in her chest as they stood amongst the tall ferns she’d been cultivating for weeks, deeply aware of how secluded they were from the rest of the world. She felt as though they existed in a space all of their own into which no one else could possibly intrude. It was so much more intimate than when Felix had first come upon her in the greenhouse all those years ago, singing about all the food she wished she could eat and offering an awkward compliment. She’d thrown the watering can at him for that.

_I genuinely thought he was making fun of me,_ Annette recalled with a smile as she stared at the man she loved. _It took me so long to realize how much he really meant what he said._

“I suppose if you really feel that way about it,” she said softly, her own cheeks flushing almost as red as his. “I could sing for you. If you would really like that.”

Felix’s eyes snapped to hers in an instant, wide and scared. He blinked several times in quick succession as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Annette waited patiently for him to respond, understanding that this whole conversation had probably cost him more anxiety than facing down a thousand Empire soldiers alone would have. 

“Um…I just remembered something urgent,” he said hastily, spinning on his heel to make an escape. “I’d…better go now.”

“Wait!” Annette exclaimed. She reached for his hand and twined her fingers through his without thinking. Felix froze in place, one leg raised to carry him away, but he didn’t pull his hand out of her grip. “You just got here! Did you want me to sing for you or not?”

Slowly, Felix turned his face back to regard her with wide amber eyes. She smiled.

“Yes,” he said quietly after a long moment. He smiled back, small and tender. “I do.”

“Come on,” Annette said, pulling him after her back down the row of ferns. “We can sit over there on that bench. It’ll be much more comfortable than standing here.”

Felix followed her, still holding her hand tightly. Annette gave him a reassuring squeeze as they walked, remembering how often she’d daydreamed about this over the years. It felt right to link their hands together like this, especially after all that they had shared. His fingers were calloused from all his swordplay, but his grip was gentle all the same and Annette found that she did not want to let go, now or ever. It was silly and sentimental and terribly impractical, but none of that factored much into her thoughts when they involved Felix.

“I wasn’t being completely honest earlier,” Felix said as he settled himself beside her. “I did have a reason for coming here. Not that seeing you _isn’t_ a reason, I just mean…” he sighed in exasperation and settled for pushing a small, poorly wrapped package into Annette’s lap. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Annette asked, turning the package over in her hands. There was a bright green ribbon tied around it in a bow with mis-matched loops. Carefully, she tugged the ribbon until it loosened and pulled the plain brown paper apart. Felix hovered over her shoulder as she worked, positively radiating apprehension. “Oh, Felix! You didn’t need to do this.”

“Happy birthday,” he said quietly. The bridge of his nose was going pink again. “I’m sorry that we didn’t plan anything special to celebrate it.”

“Don’t be sorry!” Annette interrupted brightly, eagerly turning the cover of the little notebook open. It was a thin book with fresh, blank parchment inside and a matching quill dyed blue. “I know that there’s really no time for anything like that right now, not with how things have been escalating lately.”

He seemed to relax at that and leaned back against the bench, exhaling a long breath to steady his own nerves. Annette admired the gift for a few moments more before setting it aside and impulsively throwing her arms around his shoulders. He didn’t stiffen against her touch this time despite how she had caught him off-guard. There was a time not so long ago when he would have struggled to accept this kind of affection. Instead, he casually looped his arms around her too, pulling her close. Annette would have stopped time if such a thing had been possible. 

“Thank you,” she murmured against his ear. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Felix replied equally as softly. He released his hold on her almost reluctantly and sat back, re-establishing the small space between them. “I thought that you would like it.”

“I suppose I owe you a song now,” she said lightly. “What do you want to hear? Bears, swamp beasties, boxes, or dungeon? Something else?”

“I’d like to hear them all,” Felix told her. His eyes were bright and warm, the distance that he had been trying so hard to maintain between them vanished. It was turning point in their relationship, Annette realized belatedly, that he had come to visit her today. “If that’s not a bother.”

“Of course not!” Annette shook her head vigorously and she heard him stifle a chuckle. “I love singing. You know that.”

“I know,” Felix agreed solemnly. “Then…could you start with the Library Song in full?” He paused and added more gently, “Sing for me, please, Annette.”

The sound of her name from Felix’s lips was like a song itself and sent a shiver down Annette’s spine. A memory of standing in front of Felix and performing the rough, incomplete first version of that song floated to the surface of her mind. She smiled fondly and angled her body to face him, laying her hands calmly into her lap. Annette could see the unbridled eagerness in his eyes, the pure joy of anticipation in the way he leaned slightly forward as if he was afraid of missing even a single word. This was a side of Felix that nobody else had ever truly seen and Annette counted herself blessed to have witnessed it on several occasions over their time together. 

“I would be happy to sing for you,” she murmured, smiling gently and reaching out to stroke his cheek with one hand. “Anytime you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since we had a scene with just Mercie and Annette, so I think we were due for it. Writing not-feral Dimitri is one of my favourite things, and for that reason (and many others, of course!) this chapter was a joy to write. In other news, we finally reached the A+ Support! I hope you enjoyed this take on it :)
> 
> Next chapter has some shameless cameos in it for a couple scenes from FE 9 & 10\. It's also significantly longer than this chapter, so there's that. I personally love longer chapters, but it does make things slower to write (: Thank you for sticking with me so far and for your lovely comments! <3 Stay safe and I'll be back next week with the next installment. 
> 
> Love, Kami


	31. Precious

Switching patrols with Sylvain for a week proved to be both a brilliant idea and a terrible one at the same time. 

On the one hand, Felix had been able to give Annette her birthday gift which he had spent many painstaking hours picking out. He had spent several more hours during the following evening attempting to wrap it neatly with a bow before he came to the obvious conclusion that he lacked the patience for such fine handiwork. To his great relief, she did not seem to care that the bow was wrinkled or that the paper had just barely covered the whole package. Annette had been thrilled with the little book and Felix had allowed himself to revel inwardly with pride at his success. 

He had been deeply scared to openly admit how she enthralled him with the sound of her voice and the beauty of her smile, however it was long past time to give voice to the feelings he had tried so hard to deny. Felix had not quite been able to find the courage to do that yet, not in so many words, but just as he expected Dimitri to prove his remorse with his actions, so too did Felix expect himself to show Annette just how much he loved her. He knew that there was a difference between showing it and saying it; the words were as important as the actions.

Despite being in the Monastery grounds for the week, there was no shortage of work for Felix to do. His days were filled with mundane tasks that Professor Byleth asked him to handle—everything from carting heavy boxes of building supplies from the Cathedral to the entrance hall and participating in impromptu war councils as various logistical problems cropped up during the planning process—but Felix looked most forward to the nights. He never rushed his work and he gave his full attention to whatever task he was given, yet he wasted no time in seeking out Annette at the end of each day and asking if she would sing for him. 

“Of course,” she always said. Her smile was as bright as the sun and she flushed with pleasure every time he asked. “What song do you want to hear this time?”

“Any of them,” Felix would reply, trying to look indifferent and failing miserably every time. He would blush too, and Annette would laugh behind her hand, her blue eyes dancing merrily. “Whatever you feel like singing.”

They would find somewhere quiet to sit together and Annette would sing until her voice began to go hoarse from overuse. Felix had taken to keeping a full flask of water on his hip for just such an occasion as that and she accepted it gratefully each time. He felt an electric shock run through him when Annette’s fingers brushed his across the flask. Felix had no idea if this is what it felt like to court a woman—they’d never really gone through that stage the proper way since a war wasn’t terribly conducive such banal activities as strolling through a perfectly manicured garden or sharing a carefully chaperoned evening meal—but he was confident that it must be similar.

Annette never asked for anything in return for sharing her songs with him. It wasn’t a fair trade, but Felix was happy to simply be an attentive audience. He didn’t know what he could offer in return anyway—he lacked any kind of artistic skills and he had never bothered to read for pleasure the way Ingrid or Ashe did. Writing letters to Annette had been Felix’s first real foray into the world of words and diplomacy. It had been difficult to learn to speak to her in print rather than in person, yet Felix had persevered and been rewarded with all the love and joy that Annette contained. 

It was long after the moon rose each night that the last notes would echo in the air between them and Annette would settle back into a comfortable silence for a time. Felix didn’t mind this; he rarely took the time to reflect on anything, yet there was something peaceful about the final notes of Annette’s songs lingering in his ears. Sometimes they would sit and converse quietly on all manner of topics—the war, their friends, her music, his swordplay. It was a poor mimic of real courtship from a traditional perspective, but they were hardly a traditional pair. 

The week of bliss ended all too soon. 

Sylvain returned from his patrols and Felix was honour-bound to depart on the next set in his friend’s place. He would much rather have stayed with Annette in the Monastery, listening to her sing and watching her dance across the room while he stretched across a couch and tried not to think too hard about what the future might hold. Yet Felix had never shirked his duty, so he sighed resignedly when Annette finished her last song. 

“I’ll sing for you when you come back,” Annette assured Felix in a sleepy voice. She was curled up against the far side of the couch with her eyes half-closed against the light in the room. “If you want, that is.”

“I’d like that,” he had nodded, wondering when he’d become so soft. 

The problem with this idea was that by the time Felix saw Sylvain again, his best friend wanted nothing more than to grill him about what he had accomplished during that time. It had killed Felix inside to admit to Sylvain why he wanted to switch patrols in the first place, but he had owed the other man an explanation for such an unusual request. Sylvain’s knowing smile and the glint in his eyes when he agreed to the change forewarned Felix that this conversation was inevitable. It was, in Felix’s estimation, a worthwhile sacrifice if it meant he could spend Annette’s birthday week at the Monastery. 

Now, over two weeks after he had switched patrols with Sylvain, the Blue Lions were marching northward into Faerghus to liberate Fhirdiad and Felix was beginning to wonder if he would have been smarter to switch patrols with Ashe or Ingrid instead. To make the situation worse, not only was Sylvain’s constant prattle starting to wear on his nerves (not an unusual occurrence, as it were), it had also drawn Dimitri’s attention.

“What’s going on here?” Dimitri asked with genuine interest, nudging his white horse closer to them. “Sylvain isn’t bothering you, is he?”

“Of course he is,” Felix muttered darkly. “That’s all he ever does.”

“I’ve spent years perfecting that skill,” Sylvain said proudly. He puffed out his chest for dramatic effect. “You have good timing, Your Highness. I’m trying to get Felix to tell me how his week—”

“It’s none of your business,” Felix grunted moodily. 

“—with Annette went,” Sylvain finished with a grin.

“Oh,” Dimitri said with a sagely nod. He had been trying to repair their old friendship and Felix had been willing to work with him on that. Before now, their conversations had been short and mostly focused on the campaign, devoid of any strong emotions. “I didn’t realize that was why you had switched your assigned patrol.”

“Spill the beans,” Sylvain urged. He leaned across his horse’s neck with a wicked grin. “Did you kiss her?”

“Kiss her?” Dimitri repeated in surprise. He also leaned across his horse’s neck to pin Felix with an inquisitive gaze.

“ _Kiss her?_ ” Felix repeated in a strangled half-whisper. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Isn’t that why you stayed behind?” Sylvain asked slyly with mock innocence. “To give her a birthday kiss?”

“Is this true, Felix?” Dimitri asked, his expression a mix of blatant curiosity and admiration.

“No!” he hissed. His cheeks were burning. Felix almost wished the boar was there instead of the man. Boars didn’t care about Felix’s love life, if that was what it could be called. “I don’t know where you got that ridiculous idea from, but you’re sadly mistaken.”

“You’re a bad liar,” Sylvain waved away Felix’s denial with a dismissive hand while Dimitri continued to listen avidly to the interrogation. “So you didn’t kiss her, but I bet you _wanted_ to, right?”

Felix stared at Sylvain with undisguised horror. There was no denying it now—it would have been an infinitely better idea to switch patrols with anyone other than Sylvain. A small part of Felix whispered that he shouldn’t have switched at all because there was no way that his best friend wouldn’t have somehow found out about this whole situation and ultimately led them to this same conversation, but Felix didn’t truly have the heart to regret it. 

“Are you all right?” Dimitri asked, his brow creased with concern. “You don’t look well at all, Felix.”

“He’s fine,” Sylvain assured Dimitri with an air of authority on the matter. Felix glared at him. “He’s trying to come up with a semi-believable lie. You can save your breath,” he added with a wink. “We know better.”

“We do?” Dimitri echoed with somewhat less conviction. 

“You know nothing,” Felix mumbled, trying to push his way out from the middle of the two men. He glared at Dimitri. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not particularly,” the blond man said with a shrug. He kept pace with Felix easily. “There’s not much to do while we’re still quite a distance from Fhirdiad.”

“If you need any advice on how to go in for a kiss,” Sylvain went on helpfully. “I’ve got you covered! First, you’ll want to lean forward slowly—”

“Slowly? How slowly?” Dimitri asked with raised eyebrows. He looked like he would have been taking notes if he had been able to do it on horseback. 

“Shut up,” Felix interrupted loudly before Sylvain could expand on his unsolicited advice. “I don’t need your advice on…that.” 

It sounded lame to his own ears, but Felix couldn’t think of a better comeback before the conversation veered into territory that he was very sure he didn’t want to traverse with Sylvain. It was embarrassing to even consider taking kissing technique advice from Sylvain, much less where that discussion might ultimately lead. There was no doubt in Felix’s mind that the other man had significantly more experience in the realm of romancing women than he or Dimitri combined, but he could not bring himself to listen to any part of that guidance with the intention of putting it into practice with Annette. 

_You almost kissed her once before,_ a sly voice reminded Felix. _She didn’t seem to mind anything back then._

“Okay, okay,” Sylvain replied placatingly. “We can save that for some other time.”

“What about you?” Felix shot back, attempting to deflect the conversation onto anything else. “Did you tell Ingrid how you feel yet?”

“Ingrid?” Dimitri repeated. He glanced between Felix’s steely gaze and Sylvain’s bloodless face and chuckled softly. “I seem to have missed many interesting developments while I was seeking my revenge.”

Sylvain became unnaturally quiet as the accusation hung in the air between them. It wasn’t entirely fair of Felix to call him out so bluntly on the matter, but he wasn’t feeling very sympathetic at the moment. Their friendship had always been a bizarre mix of mocking jokes at the other’s expense and offering a listening ear and steadying hand in times of trouble—this was just par for the course. He didn’t even look upset at the words, merely introspective. 

“I tried,” he said at length. Sylvain’s voice was quiet, lacking its usual playful timbre. “I don’t know if…”

“If what?” Felix asked after a moment. 

“If she believed me,” he said. Sylvain suddenly appeared to be very interested with his mount’s mane. 

Felix bit back the instinct to make a comment about Sylvain’s history of skirt-chasing, judging it not the appropriate response for such a sober conversation. He exchanged a glance with Dimitri and the blond man shook his head helplessly. The two of them were woefully out of their depth to counsel Sylvain in matters of the heart, but his drooping shoulders and downcast expression were painful to witness. 

“Why wouldn’t she believe you?” Felix asked instead, his tone somewhat wary. 

“She…just brushed me off,” Sylvain muttered, still avoiding eye contact with the others. “I told her that I’m worried for her safety and to let me protect her.”

“That sounds reasonable enough,” Dimitri said hesitantly. 

“She thanked me and told me I was a good friend to worry about her,” Sylvain went on morosely. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Felix said. “She could have just told you to fuck right off, so I’d count that as a win.”

“I agree with Felix,” Dimitri stated, watching Sylvain closely. “Ingrid is usually quite vocal when you’ve annoyed her.”

Felix privately thought that that was putting it lightly, but Dimitri was correct—Ingrid was never shy of telling anyone when they’d upset her. If she told Sylvain he was a good friend, then that was a good sign in Felix’s estimation. 

“So you didn’t actually tell her how you feel,” Felix stated flatly with an arched eyebrow. “You chickened out.”

“Not…in so many words,” Sylvain muttered with a sidelong glance at him. “Like you’re one to talk.”

Felix shot him another withering stare.

“That’s not the point,” he mumbled. “This isn’t about me now, it’s about you.”

“That is enough bickering for one day, I think,” Dimitri murmured before Sylvain could respond. He sighed and surveyed the convoy of marching soldiers. The women were all clustered ahead of them, laughing gaily as though this were a royal hunting party and not a war. “Suffice to say that none of us are particularly adept at telling a woman how we really feel.”

\---

The remainder of the journey to Fhirdiad was uneventful. Although the army moved slowly across the thawing ground, they were making good time to reinforce the advance siege company. Felix was grateful for the ease of the journey if only because it allowed him to reserve the majority of his strength for the battle ahead. Most of his time was divided between impromptu war councils as they rode and dozing in the saddle to snatch any moment of quiet that he could. War was always exhausting, and Felix felt doubly so as he valiantly tried to fill his father’s shoes as a war advisor to the king-in-waiting.

They passed by Castle Fraldarius as without pausing and Felix felt a fresh wave of grief clutch his heart with the knowledge that the whole, empty place belonged to him alone now. His uncle was there currently, overseeing the day-to-day running of the castle and assisting Margrave Gautier as much as he could until Felix returned to take up the mantle of Duke Fraldarius. He had never married, preferring to live a secluded life away from the duties of nobility to study whatever bizarre notion struck his fancy. It hadn’t been an issue until Lady Fraldarius died and then Glenn too, not long after. It mattered even more now that Lord Rodrigue had passed on from this world too.

_Now isn’t the time to worry about that,_ Felix told himself firmly, refusing to stare at the snapping banners of Fraldarius high above them. _None of it will matter anyway if we don’t win this war._

As the city of Fhirdiad came into view, its tall, proud towers piercing the sky above defiantly despite the Empire banners that were waving from each of them, Felix felt a surge of anticipation rising in his chest. Battle was exhilarating and after a long journey spent brooding with Sylvain and Dimitri over war and women—the latter being something Felix previously would never have thought could be said of himself—he could not deny that the allure of danger was a refreshing change of pace. 

“It is nearly time,” Dimitri said at last, taking one more look at the map of the city spread out before them in the command tent. “Soon, my people will be freed from the Empire’s control.”

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Professor Byleth asked. She surveyed the room expectantly with her unnaturally green eyes. “I do not expect this will be an easy fight. It is not ideal to fight through the streets, but we have no choice.”

“Not to worry,” Ashe assured her with a wan smile. “We’ll be careful not to endanger any civilians unnecessarily.”

“Good,” she nodded approvingly. “Once we enter the palace grounds, the fighting should be more open so long as Cornelia does not retreat inside to make a stand. She is our primary target—once she falls, we will be able to secure the palace.”

“What about the Imperial supporters within?” Ingrid asked. She frowned at the map. “Surely we cannot allow them to escape.”

“It is true that many nobles have bent the knee to the Empire since my apparent execution,” Dimitri affirmed with a grimace. “I would prefer to avoid unnecessary bloodshed within my palace if at all possible. To that end, we will arrest whomever we can and lock them away until we can decide on an appropriate course of action. Kill only if they refuse to cooperate.”

“I’ve heard reports that there are a number of…creatures within the palace walls to defend it,” Sylvain added. He glanced at Ingrid and she returned his gaze with equanimity. “Do we have any information on how to defeat them?”

Dimitri shrugged. “Don’t get hit,” he said obliquely. “They’re old but hardy. Smash them with as much force as you can and I imagine they will break.”

Sylvain did not look very comforted by this response, but he wisely decided not to pursue the matter further. A few people shuffled uncomfortably at Dimitri’s response—Annette included, Felix noticed—but the advice was fair. It was how battle worked, after all—fight with all you had and hope that you didn’t get hit enough to die in the process. It didn’t matter if the foe was a living, breathing human or not. You fought each individual battle as thought it might be your last because it could be your last. 

The tent flap opened to admit Sir Gilbert, his lined face alight with a fierce pride as he strode forward purposefully to give his report. Felix felt his mouth set into a thin line as the man made a proper courtly bow to Dimitri, right hand over his heart, carefully ignoring the others assembled around them. The old knight was loyal to a fault, rivalling only Dedue in that regard. 

“Our siege force has broken through the outer walls of the city, Your Highness,” Gilbert informed Dimitri in a carefully controlled voice. He looked ready to storm the city as soon as Dimitri gave the order. “We can advance at any time now.”

Dimitri exchanged a long look with Professor Byleth. They said nothing yet Felix had the distinct impression that they understood one another perfectly. He glanced across the table at Annette, wondering what it was like to share that kind of look with someone. She smiled bravely at him despite the pale fear in her eyes, but Felix couldn’t make heads or tails of what else she might be thinking. Perhaps Annette had more of a talent for that sort of pseudo-telepathic understanding; although he did not return her smile, she inclined her head reassuringly at him as if to say he needn’t worry about her.

“Then let us begin,” Dimitri announced with an air of royalty punctuating every word. He scanned the crowd of Blue Lions and smiled dangerously. “We fight today to reclaim the country that has been stolen from the people of Faerghus. We fight today to reclaim the joy and peace that we once took for granted.” He paused to let the words sink in. Felix couldn’t remember when Dimitri had last given a speech intended to inspire his followers, nor when he would have had a chance to develop his oration skills. “Be safe in this battle and fight with all your heart. If you do these things, then there is no way that we can lose.”

A smattering of applause and carefully controlled cheers filled the command tent and even Felix could not keep himself from joining in. Dimitri waited for the noise to die down once more before waving his arm in a sweeping arc in front of himself. 

“The gates of Fhirdiad are open to us now,” he cried. “Let us go together and retake our homeland!”

Dimitri led them out of the command tent with Professor Byleth at his side, their heads bent together to discuss something no one else was close enough to hear. 

\---

The battle to retake Fhirdiad proved to be long and tiring, but compared to many of their other encounters, Felix did not find it particularly difficult. True, fighting in the streets of the city made their work significantly more difficult—between civilians trying to help but only managing to get underfoot and Imperial soldiers fighting the Kingdom army careless of what property they damaged in the process—but Felix found the work invigorating. He had been _made_ for this, forged in grief and honed through loss.

He wended his way through the alleys of Fhirdiad with a lethal grace that Imperial soldiers underestimated more than once. Felix’s sword ran red with the blood of his enemies and he left a trail of dead bodies in his wake, pausing only to ensure that he hadn’t lost Annette in the chaos of the battle. She had taken a handful of injuries during their advance through the streets which Felix wasn’t quite able to forgive himself for allowing to happen, but she managed to keep pace with him all the same, never once asking him to slow down. Annette never complained about anything, not when the lives of others were at stake. 

By the time they reached the gates of the palace, the pair of them were covered in a variety of relatively minor injuries and dried blood. Felix paused at the edge of the alley from which they had emerged to assess the state of the fight ahead, gently grabbing Annette’s sleeve as she moved automatically forward toward the sounds of battle. She glanced back at him with wide blue eyes that reflected his. He could lose himself in the depths of her gaze if he allowed himself to stare at her face for too long. 

“Are you all right?” he asked her seriously, pushing aside as many of his feelings for her as possible. It was neither the time nor the place for his head to be filled with love or hope. He gestured to her left side. “You’re breathing hard—is that wound giving you trouble?”

“I’m fine,” Annette assured him, trying not to wince with pain. They had been ambushed by a cluster of four soldiers and she had unfortunately taken a dagger wound before she had been able to finish casting the spell that killed the attacker. “It’s nothing.”

“I can tell that you’re lying,” Felix told her bluntly. “You should get that looked at before you engage in further battles.”

“I’ve used some vulnerary ointment on it already,” Annette objected with a weak smile. “Really, I’m fine. Let’s hurry so that we can be done with all this—”

“No,” Felix interrupted her firmly. She blinked in surprise. “I’m not taking you with me when you’re injured. You’ll be in more danger.” He began walking briskly again. He still hadn’t let go of her sleeve. “Come on, we’ll find you a healer first, Annette.”

Annette trailed meekly in his wake, but she didn’t pull out of his grip. He could have taken her hand— _should_ have taken her hand, Felix mentally berated himself—but it seemed absurd to adjust that now. He wasn’t sure if any healers would be nearby to help her, but Felix was determined to find _someone_ with even the slightest amount of skill with white magic who could make any difference. 

“I’m really fine,” Annette insisted from behind him. “Trust me, Felix, I’d tell you if I needed assistance.”

“You would wait until this battle is over or until you keel over with exhaustion in the middle of a fight to say anything at all,” Felix countered with a self-satisfied smirk over his shoulder. “This is hardly the first time we’ve been partnered together in battle, Annie. I know you.”

Several seconds passed before Felix realized that he had used her nickname. He had never done that before. It always felt too intimate and Felix instinctively rebelled against anything intimate. He hardly ever used Ingrid or Sylvain’s childhood nicknames anymore either. Felix scoured his memory for when he might have last called Dimitri by ‘Dimi’ and found that he could not recall. They were the only people to whom Felix had used a nickname. 

_Annie,_ he thought tensely, acutely aware of the soft fabric of her sleeve still clutched between his fingers. The word tasted natural on his tongue when he spoke, and it felt right in his head if he allowed himself to dwell on it. 

“Sorry,” Felix said awkwardly, feeling his cheeks flushing as they hurried toward the gates. He could see a makeshift command station at the entrance to the palace grounds. “Annette, I meant.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him gently. He chanced another look over his shoulder and saw that she was smiling. “I don’t mind. Everyone calls me ‘Annie.’”

Felix didn’t know how to respond to this invitation, so he said nothing at all and filed the words away for future reference. There wasn’t enough time to process the implications that this statement held, or to come to terms with the fact that Annette had outright told him he could call her by her nickname. It was stupidly sentimental to be concerned about this in the middle of a battle—especially one as important as this—so Felix did his best to keep those thoughts from distracting his focus. 

They reached the command station just as Annette began to wheeze more forcefully. Fortunately, although Mercedes was nowhere to be seen, there were two healers waiting there. They pulled Annette away to examine her wounds without bothering to give Felix himself more than a quick glance to confirm that he wasn’t gravely injured. He waited impatiently for the healers to finish their work, bouncing on the balls of his feet and surveying the grand entrance to the palace grounds. 

He could hear shouting beyond the proud iron gate which stood wide open to admit the liberating army into the palace grounds. He spared a thought for where the others were now, wondering if perhaps the Professor and Dimitri had managed to make any progress against Cornelia’s defence. He hoped Sylvain and Ingrid were safe fighting against whatever they were facing—despite the frequency with which they disagreed, Felix couldn’t deny they made a formidable pair in battle. 

“Sorry for the delay,” Annette said, appearing at his side rejuvenated and whole again. Her face was still pale, and she was covered in blood and dirt, but Felix knew he didn’t look any better. At least she could walk steadily again, and her breathing wasn’t laboured. “We should go so that we can help the others!”

“This battle is far from finished,” Felix said by way of reply. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye. “Stay back a little from me and shout if you need assistance. The grounds are wide, so the enemy shouldn’t be able to surround us as easily here.” 

“All right,” she agreed, laying a hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay? I can heal you if you need it, but my skills won’t be enough if you get seriously hurt.”

He nodded once and set off at a jog, hoping she had enough strength to follow.

\---

The sun was setting by the time they managed to retake Fhirdiad. 

They had not quite reached Cornelia’s personal guard when Ashe appeared seemingly out of nowhere to haul Annette unceremoniously onto his horse and ferry her to where her healing abilities were desperately needed. There wasn’t any time to exchange words; Felix only briefly glanced at her as they raced away to the makeshift field infirmary that Mercedes was no doubt running. She looked as exhausted as he felt but her eyes were resolute as she settled behind Ashe. 

Felix ascended the last steps alone, cutting down each Imperial soldier who dared to challenge him. It had been more than five years since he had last visited the royal palace in Fhirdiad; he hadn’t come back here since his friendship with Dimitri began to dissolve after the Tragedy of Duscur, but he could still remember the corridors and halls like his second home. He’d stayed in the palace many times as a child when he accompanied his father on Fraldarius business, chasing Dimitri around the gardens and through the kitchens, each of them nicking freshly baked cookies as they went.

_Memories,_ Felix thought grimly, catching sight of Dimitri standing over Cornelia’s fallen body. His expression was pained, and Felix momentarily wondered if he’d fallen back into a boar. _Everywhere I go, there are memories. I’m tired of the past._

“It is done,” Dimitri murmured as Felix came to stand beside him in a curiously melancholy voice. They stared at the corpse of the woman who had imposed the Empire’s will over Faerghus for so many long years. Her death both represented a hard-won freedom from the oppression of the Empire and the long road that lay ahead of them to restore Faerghus to her former glory. “Fhirdiad—nay, Faerghus—is ours again.”

“We need to secure the palace,” Felix said, ever pragmatic. “There’s bound to be Imperial loyalists everywhere.”

“Indeed,” Dimitri agreed softly. He gestured toward a pair of soldiers hovering nearby. “Burn her body and clean this mess,” he ordered, already striding away with Professor Byleth and Felix on either side. Dedue went on ahead to secure their entrance, carefully watching for any would-be assassins. No one wanted to risk a repeat of Gronder Field.

The interior of the royal palace was unlike Felix’s memories. The walls were draped with red tapestries boasting the Imperial insignia of a black and gold eagle. Dimitri’s expression darkened at the sight, and he ordered a quartet of maids skulking near a servant’s passage to remove them at once. They scurried to obey with wide eyes, not bothering to lower their voices as they conferred about Dimitri’s one-eyed gaze and careworn features. Felix shot them a sharp glance as they passed and was pleased to see how the maids ceased their blatant gossiping at once. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe he had silenced them for good, but it wouldn’t do for Dimitri to look weak in front of the palace staff so soon upon his return. 

“It feels strange to be back,” Dimitri commented as they walked briskly through the halls toward the throne room. “I haven’t been back in Fhirdiad—much less the palace—since my execution.”

“I suspect we will be spending quite some time here for the foreseeable future,” Professor Byleth said quietly as they strode through the massive double doors into the throne room. Dedue and Ingrid were overseeing the lords and ladies who had been found within the palace walls when Cornelia fell. Felix recognized more than a few faces amongst them and wondered who might still prove trustworthy. “You need to solidify your control over Fhirdiad before we move on Enbarr.”

Dimitri nodded curtly, halting in front of the assembled nobility. He still held Areadbhar in his hand as a clear reminder of his right to the throne of Faerghus. Some people murmured behind their hands and stared openly at the blood coating each of them. You could call it a warning, a tactic to intimidate them into compliance. Felix knew it would take longer than one audience to ferret out those who were trustworthy and those who were not, but the blood they wore was a reminder of their ferocity and their willingness to do whatever it took to regain control of their homeland. 

“Cornelia has fallen,” Dimitri said without preamble, gazing out over the crowd. His voice was firm, unhurried. “Fhirdiad and the Kingdom of Faerghus belongs to the citizens of Faerghus once again.”

There was no applause at this pronouncement, but Felix had not expected any. None of them had seen Dimitri since his supposed execution and many of them had likely believed him dead and gone. _Who supported Cornelia because they were left with no choice?_ Felix wondered, pacing closer to Ingrid and surveying the nobles impassively. He left one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. _And who supported Cornelia because they wanted to?_

“I would prefer to avoid further bloodshed on our soil,” Dimitri went on calmly, his voice carrying through the room clearly. “I would deeply regret to take the lives of anyone else in our fair country, however, rest assured that I will not hesitate to cut down anyone who challenges me.” He paused to survey the nobles once more. “Speak now if loyalty to Faerghus is true in your heart.”

Felix and Ingrid shared a wary glance while Dedue looked ready to pounce as the first indication that anyone meant harm to Dimitri. A tense silence settled over the throne room, yet Dimitri looked completely at ease with Professor Byleth at his side. Neither one looked particularly worried that anything might happen now, but Felix was never one to become complacent when there was so much at stake. It could mean the end of everything they had worked so hard to achieve.

“My loyalty is first and foremost to the Goddess,” said a man with long black hair smoothly. The crowd parted in the centre to allow the speaker to walk forward and offer a courtly bow to Dimitri, his hand wrapped around a tall ceremonial staff. His sharp eyes lingered on the Professor for a long moment before he turned his attention back to Dimitri. “Yet my loyalty to the Kingdom of Faerghus has never wavered. I am glad to see that you have returned safely to us.”

“Sephiran,” Dimitri nodded as the long-time Chancellor of Faerghus straightened. “Your presence warms my heart.”

Felix had never liked the Chancellor very much, but he had faithfully served the Blaiddyd family for as long as he could remember. It was said that Sephiran had spent many years amongst the monks of the Church of Seiros before journeying northward into Faerghus where he had been appointed Chancellor by King Lambert. Still, there was something vaguely unnatural about the man that Felix had never quite been able to ignore. 

“Allow me to be the first to reaffirm my fealty to Your Highness,” Sephiran continued with a glint in his dark eyes. He knelt before Dimitri, gripping his staff with one hand and placing the other over his heart. “May my loyalty to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus never falter.”

_Prettily said,_ Felix thought sourly, crossing his arms and watching the man closely. _Time will tell how true those words are._

“Your oath is accepted,” Dimitri intoned royally as Sephiran rose gracefully and others began to tentatively move forward. “We will have great need of your assistance moving forward.”

_So it begins,_ Felix thought grimly. _The restoration of Faerghus._

\---

Three days after they secured the royal palace, Dimitri ordered a banquet to celebrate the liberation of Faerghus. 

Felix couldn’t think of a worse time to pause war activities in favour of something as frivolous as a party, but he grudgingly acknowledged the strategic importance of establishing Dimitri’s role as monarch. Balls and banquets like this weren’t meant to simply be an entertaining pastime but also a place to assert their dominance over the old faction. It was a show of goodwill toward those nobles who had bent their knee to Dimitri, a way to begin cultivating true loyalty while also reiterating the power that the liberators held over the kingdom. To that end, Professor Byleth made it abundantly clear to Felix that his presence was a necessity.

“Of course I’ll be there,” he retorted, already closing the door to the Fraldarius suite of rooms in her face. “Someone needs to be on their guard while Dimitri plays at being a king-in-waiting.”

There wasn’t enough time to prepare proper clothing for a ball, but Felix’s clothes had been freshly laundered and the holes had been deftly patched to look as good as new. Although he didn’t intend to spend much time fussing over his attire, Felix couldn’t deny that enjoying a warm shower after so much travel and battle did wonders for his self-esteem. He took care to comb his long hair free of tangles and tie it back with a scrap of soft leather into a neat tail. If he was being honest with himself, Felix couldn’t quite suppress the desire to look good. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon stalking the corridors of the palace like a caged wolf trying to catch the scent of prey. His scowls sent more than one maid dashing in the opposite direction. No one _seemed_ to be acting suspiciously despite the surplus of unfamiliar nobility within the palace who had bent their knee to Dimitri, but Felix didn’t like to leave things to chance. If Dimitri was in danger, then so were the rest of them. 

“You worry too much,” Sylvain told him as they settled in to dine at the high table with the other Blue Lions. “Nothing is going to happen tonight. Everyone is waiting to see what kind of ruler Dimitri will be before they do anything.”

“You don’t worry enough,” Felix countered, gazing around the room for anyone out of place. He didn’t want to admit that Sylvain was probably right, but there was always a chance someone with grand aspirations might take the opportunity to destabilize them. “Where is he, anyway? Wasn’t this his idea?”

“Don’t you know anything about etiquette?” Sylvain asked with a self-satisfied smirk and gesturing toward the far end of the room with a jerk of his head. “He’ll be last to arrive. He’s got to make a grand entrance, you know?”

“I suppose,” Felix muttered absently. He watched Ingrid enter the Grand Hall flanked on either side by Mercedes and Annette. The dress she wore was plainly one of Mercedes’ which had been slightly altered to fit her more appropriately. Sylvain drew in a sharp breath as Ingrid approached but Felix found himself blatantly staring at Annette and the way her hair was pinned up in elaborate curls. 

“Good evening gentlemen,” Mercedes said jovially as the three of them were escorted up to the high table by a servant in Blaiddyd livery. “I hope we haven’t kept you waiting.”

“Not at all,” Sylvain replied, unable to hold back his impulse to respond to anything that a pretty woman said. “I must admit, the room is brighter now that you are all here.”

Ingrid snorted as she took her seat on the end of the table beside Sylvain. “Do you ever stop?” she muttered, arranging her skirts carefully as if she was unused to doing anything so feminine. She couldn’t quite hide a look of pleasure at the compliment despite her harsh tone.

“It’s a natural gift,” Sylvain concurred with a chuckle. His eyes slid over Ingrid’s face and reflected the way her earrings sparkled in the light. “You look beautiful, Ingrid,” he added soberly. 

Felix turned his face away as Ingrid blushed and smacked Sylvain lightly on the arm. It felt intrusive to watch them awkwardly flirt with each other, but Annette was seated at the other end of the table and he was left with nothing to do except stare out blandly across the room. For all the new faces who had risen through the ranks of nobility while Cornelia ruled in Fhirdiad, there were plenty of people he recognized mingling at the lower tables.

The royal musicians were set up in a corner of the room coaxing beautiful melodies from their instruments as a flustered-looking Ashe hurried into the room. He was followed by a much calmer looking Dedue although neither of them appeared very comfortable following a liveried servant to the high table. Numerous people turned to stare openly as they passed; they couldn’t fail to note Dedue’s heritage or Ashe’s relatively threadbare attire. Felix glowered from his seat down at the guests though nobody seemed to notice. Despite the fact that Lord Rodrigue had been much more approachable, people weren’t in the habit of staring openly at Felix Fraldarius. 

His stomach was growling loudly by the time Chancellor Sephiran announced Dimitri’s arrival with Professor Byleth. Hundreds of chairs scraped against the floor while the musicians struck up a royal tune as the pair entered into the room. Dimitri’s armor had been replaced with robes of flowing silver trimmed with royal Faerghus blue and although he wore no crown, Felix thought he looked more royal than he had in many years. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” Felix said with a good-natured grunt as they took their seats at the table and servants appeared with platters of food. “I’m starving, boar!”

“Apologies,” Dimitri chuckled. He looked tired but sleeping in a real down-stuffed mattress made for a much more comfortable sleeping experience overall. “There is much to be done, and I lack the luxury of delegating many of the tasks associated with finalizing our control in Fhirdiad.”

“Figures,” Felix said, wasting no time in cutting a piece of roast beef and shoving it into his mouth. It had been a long time since they had enjoyed a truly good meal without needing to worry about their supplies and he relished every bite. “I doubt you can trust half of these guests in the long-term. They’re here to judge how malleable you are, not how well you’ll rule.”

“I know,” Dimitri agreed softly. He drew his one-eyed gaze over the crowd and sighed. “They will learn quickly. I have all of you with me, after all.”

“Keep your guard up,” Felix advised him. “We need their support to take Enbarr, but we cannot afford to allow them to turn that support against us once we are gone from Fhirdiad.”

The meal continued pleasantly enough despite how Felix found himself caught between Sylvain’s flirting with Ingrid on his left and Dimitri’s whispered conversation with Professor Byleth on his right. It was foolishly sentimental to wish that he was sitting where Mercedes was instead at the other end of the table, but Felix couldn’t deny that the prospect of prolonged conversation with Annette was much more interesting than staring blankly into his wine glass. By the time the servants carried away the last of the trays and cleared away several tables to make room for a large dance floor, Felix thought he might simply waste away purely from boredom. 

The musicians struck up a new song as dessert tables began to appear along the edges of the room, one that was slower and distinctly more romantic than the dinner music had been. Somewhat belatedly, Felix turned his attention toward the floor just as Dimitri approached with Professor Byleth. For all his size, Dimitri led her gracefully in time with the music, smiling down at her with such earnestness that they might have been alone in the room. Sylvain and Ingrid joined them a few moments later, the latter looking rather flustered as Sylvain pulled her close.

_Stupid!_ Felix mocked himself inwardly, half-rising from his chair to belatedly ask Annette to dance only to notice that her seat was empty. _I should have been paying more attention!_

His eyes snapped back to the dance floor, drawn to her fiery hair as she swayed with Dedue. He could see her whispering encouragingly to the tall man as she led him through the proper steps of the dance with ease. Although Felix’s disdain for Dedue had been tempered greatly in recent months, seeing him so close to Annette caused a painful flare of jealousy to constrict his chest. It felt like a repeat of the winter ball except that this time Felix actually _wanted_ to dance. 

_I’ll cut in at the end of the song,_ Felix decided, stepping down from the high table and lingering near the edge of the dance floor. 

They say that the Goddess laughs when you make plans. Felix supposed that she laughed most when _he_ tried to make plans which involved Annette and did her utmost to disrupt them. 

No sooner did the song end than Felix took two steps forward only to see Dimitri take Annette’s hands in his own and swirl her away in a flurry of skirts and laughter. He stood glowering on the edge of the dance floor without a partner and feeling slightly nettled that the boar prince had managed to move faster than he did. Felix stepped back in defeat and crossed his arms over his chest, resolving that he would be her next partner. 

Somewhere in the heavens above, the Goddess laughed again. 

_Now is my chance!_ Felix thought, already lifting one foot to push his way between dancing couples as the song began to wind down to an end. 

“You must be Felix Fraldarius, correct?” drawled a voice from behind Felix, stopping him in his tracks. “Son of the late Rodrigue Fraldarius?”

Part of Felix very much wanted to turn and say “No, you’re mistaken. I’m Sylvain Gautier, that’s Felix Fraldarius over there” while pointing to where Sylvain was dancing with Mercedes but the chances of that lie working were so slim that he ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he turned slowly to face the intruder and tried very hard not to think about how Ashe was bowing sweetly to Annette behind him and leading her in a dance that ought to have been Felix’s by all rights.

“And you are?” Felix growled without answering the question. In truth, he did not need to ask who the man was, but he wasn’t thinking fast enough to come up with a more scathing response. 

“General Zelgius,” the man said, shaking Felix’s hand firmly. He didn’t smile. “I heard about what happened to your father. My condolences to you.”

“Thanks,” Felix muttered. He tried to look imposing, hoping that would bring the conversation to an end. It was a difficult task given that the man in front of him rivalled Dimitri in size.

“He was an excellent soldier,” General Zelgius continued, apparently unperturbed by Felix’s uninviting demeanour. He gestured to a number of men and women arrayed behind him all with expressions of varying degrees of sorrow. “I had the honour of serving with him in the army many years ago. Now that he has passed, will you be taking his place as Shield of Faerghus?”

There was nothing Felix wanted to do less in that moment than discuss his dead father with his old acquaintances. Nor did he have any interest in encouraging speculation about his role in Dimitri’s monarchy, not with the war against the Empire still unresolved. Nevertheless, the next song had already started, and Ashe had already taken his place with Annette so he decided he could humour the soldiers for a few minutes while the music played out. Felix had no qualms with excusing himself from this unwanted conversation at the end of the song regardless of how rude it came across—people were used to that with him, as it were.

Felix felt a ringing in his ears and knew instinctively that the Goddess was laughing at him once again.

\---

By the time Felix extricated himself from a slew of nobles and knights intent on grilling him for any information they possibly could about himself, Dimitri, Professor Byleth and nearly every other Blue Lion, several hours had passed and he was in a thoroughly bad mood. General Zelgius hadn’t been the only person wishing to pay their respects for his father’s death; Felix had had to endure an ever-growing crowd of nobles—both of the old guard and the new—speaking their empty praises and meaningless sympathies before inevitably drawing the conversation to topics of more immediate political relevance.

_They must not be getting the information they want from Dimitri,_ Felix thought as he stopped a passing servant to refill his wine. _They’re testing me to see if I’ll let something slip._

“Finally free, are you?” 

Felix nearly dropped his wine glass in surprise at the sound of Annette’s voice. She was smiling up at him, her blue eyes dancing with merriment. He had lost track of her whereabouts after her second dance with Dedue earlier in the evening and wondered briefly where she had been to appear so suddenly beside him now. It wasn’t difficult to deduce—she was holding a small plate with a slice of cake in one hand which she had no doubt selected from the absurd amount of options stacked on the table behind him. 

“Yes,” he replied grumpily. “I thought I’d never get away. There’s nothing more irritating than making small talk with nobles.”

“Not even Sylvain?” Annette teased, popping a bite of the cake into her mouth. 

“You make a good point,” Felix agreed, trying not to remember his friend’s tips on kissing with only minimal success. “Allow me to correct myself: there is nothing more irritating than Sylvain other than making small talk with nobles.”

“It’s all pretty overwhelming,” Annette said thoughtfully, turning her eyes out across the room again. “This is whole evening is so much different than the winter ball. Do you remember that? It was so much fun back then. None of us had hardly a care in the world!”

_Of course I remember that,_ Felix thought. He sipped his wine and followed her gaze. _I couldn’t forget if I tried._

“A lot has changed in five years,” he said gently. She nodded silently, savouring the last of her cake. “We didn’t know we would be fighting a war back then.”

“That’s true,” Annette murmured, setting her empty plate on the table behind them and smoothing her skirts unnecessarily. She had a habit of fidgeting when she was nervous. “I understand why Dimitri threw this banquet, but I wish it could have been during happier times. Everyone is so tense here.”

“Try not to focus on it,” Felix advised her, draining his wine and setting the glass aside. He was unwilling to let another chance to dance with her slip through his fingers. The music was winding down again, so he turned to face her, bowing formally at the waist. “I would be honoured if you would dance with me, Annette.”

Once, he had been unsure if she would accept his invitation and afraid that she would reject his proffered hand. He had been younger back then, full of feelings he hadn’t been able to understand completely, impulsively asking a pretty girl to dance with him after spending weeks insisting that he had no interest in anything of the sort. Felix hadn’t known what it meant to love a woman for her wits or her beauty, and he certainly hadn’t known how to express that love. 

If he was being honest with himself, Felix still didn’t really know how to express his feelings to Annette, but this time he had no fear that she would reject his invitation to dance. She had displayed more bravery than him ever since the night she had confronted him on the tower, refusing to allow him to turn tail and run from the feelings he tried to suppress. Her hand was small and soft in his as she sank into a deep curtsy. 

“The honour would be mine, Felix,” Annette murmured, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor as the musicians began again. “Did you know they would be playing _Dawnsong_ next?”

“No,” Felix admitted, laying one hand against the small of her back and lacing his fingers between hers with his other one. “Consider it a happy coincidence.”

“Indeed, I will,” Annette giggled, and he felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sound. She grinned mischievously at him. “I thought you didn’t like dancing.”

“I can make exceptions to the rule,” Felix said lightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He paused and cleared his throat self-consciously. “You look lovely tonight, Annie.”

She blushed and tightened her grip on his shoulder. “It is kind of you to say so,” she said softly. “I wondered if I might be lucky enough to dance with you again. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had already left long before now.”

“Normally, I would have,” he agreed equally as softly. “Not tonight.”

“Will you go after this?” she asked hesitantly. Her cheeks were still pink. 

Felix considered this question carefully, acutely aware of Annette’s grip on his shoulder and the way his hand fit comfortably against her back. He _did_ want to leave the stuffy hall and abandon Dimitri to deal with the endless queue of nobles that would be his burden to bear if they survived the remainder of this long war. However, there was no question in his mind that, if given the chance, Felix would prefer to spend the remainder of the night with Annette by his side. It would be all too easy to say the wrong thing, to drive her away with careless words as he had done so many times before.

“Perhaps,” he replied, holding her gaze steadily despite the way his heart pounded in his ears. “Have you visited the royal palace before?”

Annette shook her head. “Maybe once or twice when I was very young,” she said with a shrug. She flashed a radiant smile at Mercedes as they twirled past the other woman and Ashe, both of whom were grinning brightly at them. “I haven’t been inside since then. Mercie and I used to admire it from the front gates when we attended the Royal School of Sorcery.”

“Would you care to accompany me through the gardens?” Felix asked before his courage could fail him. He fought to keep his voice casual. “They are beautiful in the moonlight.”

“I would love to,” Annette said, turning her dazzling smile back to him. She sank into another curtsy as the music faded and Felix bowed instinctively. It was the proper thing to do, after all. “The Goddess has truly been gracious to us.”

“This way,” Felix said, offering his arm to her. She accepted it elegantly, resting her fingers on his forearm. He felt his skin tingle despite the layers of cloth separating them. 

“This palace is magnificent,” Annette remarked as they exited the hall through a small side door into a beautifully maintained garden. Felix couldn’t possibly have named any of the plants they passed but the excitement in Annette’s voice as she pointed out different varieties of flowers to him was contagious. “It’s like a dream to be here. Just a few months ago, I would scarcely have believed it possible.”

“Me too,” Felix agreed with feeling, pushing away memories of all the fighting against Cornelia alongside his father. “You were right, after all.”

“What do you mean?” she asked quizzically, tightening her grip on his arm. 

“In your last letter,” Felix explained. He could still recall every word she had written as though she had been there to speak them in his ear. “We really did make a difference in this war when we all returned for the Millennium Festival. I’m sorry I doubted you back then.”

Annette stopped so suddenly that Felix felt his arm yank painfully back as he took two steps past her. She blinked at him in the moonlight, her blue eyes shining brightly with an emotion Felix couldn’t quite name. “Who are you and what have you done with Felix?” Annette asked playfully, standing on the tips of her toes and placing the back of her hand against his forehead. Felix felt his face flush. 

“I’m just trying to give credit where credit is due,” Felix defended himself hastily. “I didn’t think this was possible—” he waved his free arm widely around them in a vague all-encompassing gesture, “—you know, taking back Fhirdiad or Dimitri returning to his old self, more or less.”

“I can’t say that I knew it would work out,” Annette said quietly, settling back onto her feet and dropping her free hand to her side. “I wanted to see everyone again more than I can possibly say. It was so lonely, and hope is all that kept me going.”

“Hope,” Felix murmured. They walked side-by-side through the narrow garden pathways, arms still linked. He should be used to her closeness by now having spent much of his free time since her birthday alone together while she sang away his fears and his pain. “I’m not used to hoping for anything. I either make it happen by my sword or I fail to change things.”

“That’s why I’m your girl!” Annette laughed, unlinking her arm from Felix’s and twirling away from him down the path. He smiled foolishly after her, admiring her girlish joy and the way her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. It really _was_ like a dream. “I have enough hope for both of us!”

“Annette…” Felix began uncertainly. His heart was thumping faster and faster in his chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Annette stopped suddenly a few paces away looking apologetic. She wrung her hands anxiously in front of her. “I didn’t mean to imply anything…about us.”

“No, it’s all right,” Felix interjected quickly, glancing around to see if anyone was near. It seemed that they were alone and for that he was grateful. “Here, sit with me, won’t you?”

She hesitated for a moment as Felix made himself comfortable on the stone bench and watched her expectantly. When Annette finally moved to sit beside him, she was careful to leave an obvious gap between them as if she didn’t dare to overstep the line between friendship and love again. It was pointless, Felix realized; the line had long since been blurred beyond recognition. He chuckled in spite of himself and Annette frowned at him, her nose wrinkling sweetly.

_I am as much to blame for that as she is,_ Felix thought, admiring the way her eyes narrowed a she glared at him. She always tried to look intimidating when she was upset, but Felix always thought she looked cuter that way. She didn’t have the heart to be truly menacing. _I told her that there was no hope for us, but I never could bring myself to stay away._

“What’s so funny?” Annette demanded, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. “I told you I was sorry for—” 

“It’s not that,” Felix interrupted gently. He chuckled again, falling into genuine laughter after a moment. When was the last time he laughed so freely? “You’re absolutely right—you’ve always had enough hope to share with me. That’s why…”

“Why what?” Annette prompted him curiously after a moment. 

“That’s why…” Felix tried again, his voice low and unsteady. It was easier to imagine this conversation in his mind and infinitely more difficult to put into words. He turned to face her, his amber eyes shining brightly. “That’s why I love you.”

Felix wasn’t sure what he expected to happen when the words finally tumbled forth, but he was fairly confident it wasn’t complete silence. Annette stared at him with wide eyes as though she had never seen him before. Felix felt a cold, creeping dread lance through his heart, a familiar fear sowing doubt that she hadn’t truly meant what she said back on the moonlit tower on a night not so different from this one. He had imagined this scene more vividly ever since he’d dared to hope that his father might be inclined to approve of his choice for a life partner. Marriage wasn’t something he had given much thought to before Annette stumbled into his life five years ago and it wasn’t something that he allowed himself to wish for while they exchanged letters. He tried to deny his feelings even as he longed to kiss her. 

_The time for denials is over,_ Felix resolved inwardly, fighting to keep his breathing even despite how his heart pounded madly in his chest. He hoped that she could read the sincerity of his words in his eyes. _Ingrid and Sylvain were right—I can have my happiness now. I can make her happy._

“Felix…” Annette whispered, her voice so soft that it might as well have been a breath of wind. “You…”

“Yes,” he replied softly. He reached for her hands and held them gently. “I love you, Annette.”

“This must be a dream,” Annette said dazedly, though she didn’t pull her hands away. 

“It’s not,” Felix insisted quietly. He leaned forward slowly. “Trust me.”

Annette’s lips were soft and warm against his, tentatively exploring the shape of his mouth. She tasted like wine and the remnants of sweet chocolate cake. He had never kissed a woman before and he had no idea if anything he was doing was right, but Annette didn’t pull away so the small part of his brain that was still functioning decided that that must mean she was enjoying it too. He felt her fingers tighten around his hands. He squeezed hers back reassuringly.

“Felix…” Annette murmured breathlessly, breaking away from the kiss and staring at him with her bright blue eyes. “Are you sure about this? Is this really what you want?”

“Yes,” Felix said immediately. He felt his cheeks flushing but he couldn’t look away from her lovely face. He never wanted to see her cry again. “You said you would wait for me. I was a fool for _making_ you wait.” He paused for a moment and sighed heavily. “We still have a long way to go before this war is over. I can’t promise you that there is a future ahead of us, not yet. I _can_ assure you that I have never wanted anything more than this. I told you before, I’m your captive.”

“Oh, Felix,” Annette smiled as brightly as the noonday sun. “I know anything can happen in this war, but I have faith that we will come through it safely. We can do anything together.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling at her. It was easy to smile with Annette; her joy was infectious. He craved her smile and her happiness with his entire being. 

Felix leaned forward and kissed her again, this time with more urgency. He slid one hand around her shoulders and the other around her waist, pulling Annette close against his chest. She returned the kiss eagerly, looping her arms around his neck and poking her tongue hesitantly against his lips. He was kissing her purely by instinct now, hoping vaguely that he was doing it properly and not bothering to stifle a low moan in the back of his throat. Felix could not remember the last time he felt safe when he was so vulnerable, but the circle of Annette’s arms was nothing if not a harbour of acceptance and unadulterated love.

_I love you,_ Felix thought as he poured his soul into the kiss, willing her to understand. _I love you, Annette._

Felix had no concept of time when they finally pulled away from each other, breathless and happy, as if there was no such thing in the world as war or sorrow. Annette’s head dipped forward against his own and they stayed that way for a long moment as the reality of what they had shared began to sink in, like a spring rain rejuvenating a parched garden. Felix’s life had been turned upside down from the first moment he had met the woman sitting with him even now, a life he could hardly consider returning to after accepting the love he had finally allowed himself to revel in.

“Annie,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently. He felt her shiver, not knowing if it was from the cold or something else entirely. “Dance with me one more time, please?”

So it was that Felix took Annette by the hands and led her into a nearby courtyard bathed in cool moonlight and lit by the bright stars above. They paled in comparison to Annette’s easy smile, but in that moment, there was nothing that could have outshone her. She sang sweetly as they danced together in a moonlit night, her voice too low to be heard by anyone else. It was a song just for them, one of her own devising to commemorate their love. It made Felix’s heart soar and he kissed her again with only the stars to witness. 

Somewhere high above them, Felix knew the Goddess was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It finally happened! Goodness, we covered a lot of literal and figurative ground in this chapter (a whopping 19 pages total!). After 31 chapters, Felix finally said the words and it feels so good to share this part with all of you :) Not to worry, we still have a ways to go yet--we're seeing this through to the end! I can't wait to write more fluff between them now that we're at this point. 
> 
> I have a lot that I could say about this chapter, but in the interest of not making a super long note, I'll wrap it up here. I certainly hope you enjoyed this installment. Thank you for reading and for commenting :) See you next week!
> 
> Love, Kami


	32. Closing the Distance

“Annie? Is something the matter?”

Annette blinked at the sound of her name and shook her head to clear the fog from her mind. Warm sunlight streamed through the open window making Ingrid’s hair shine like newly minted gold and Mercedes’ gleam like fresh wheat. They sat around an ornate table set with scones, fresh fruit and hot tea, chatting quietly in the mid-morning light. Admittedly, the other two women had been carrying the conversation without much input from Annette who was much too distracted to properly concentrate on the flow of dialogue in any case. 

“Nothing!” Annette said quickly, flashing a sweet smile at Mercedes. Her friend returned it easily, not looking terribly concerned despite her words. “Sorry, I missed that—what were you saying?”

“You just had a kind of…” Ingrid paused, searching for the right word, her brow furrowing with concentration. She glanced at Mercedes as if the other woman might be able to suggest something fitting for the situation, but Mercedes only smiled blandly. “…faraway look on your face.”

“Oh.” Annette sipped her tea, casually eyeing the scones and wondering how she could explain the feelings that were swirling within her even now. The previous night still felt like a dream but the memory of Felix’s lips against hers was too real to have been her imagination. She could remember the way his eyes smoldered like amber in the bright moonlight and the way his voice hitched when he had said what he had to her. She sighed happily at the memory, setting her teacup down as the memory came back in full, vivid force to the forefront of her mind. 

“There it is again!” Ingrid exclaimed, jarring her out of her reverie and leaning forward across the table to consider Annette’s face more closely. “Is something on your mind, Annette?”

“Well…” she began, a smile playing across her face as she sipped her tea again. She tried to keep her tone light and unconcerned. “Yes, I suppose there is.”

“You can talk to us,” Ingrid told her kindly, raising her own teacup and sitting back against her chair again. Few as they were during a war, Ingrid seemed to enjoy these times when the women could gather and chat amicably over tea more than her stern appearance would suggest. “Did one of the men say something bothersome to you? I’ll happily tell them off if they did!”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Annette assured her, reaching for a blueberry scone and feeling her cheeks flush. She was never good at hiding her feelings; it was why she had taken Mercedes’ advice and told him how she felt after Ailell. “Felix kissed me last night.”

Ingrid choked on her tea.

“Oh, that’s wonderful Annie!” Mercedes congratulated her, thumping Ingrid’s back firmly with one hand. She grinned impishly at her friend. “I must say, it’s about time!”

“Mercie!” Annette laughed with some embarrassment and sipped her tea again. 

“You’re serious?” Ingrid finally managed once her coughing had subsided, her green eyes wide with amazement. She leaned forward again as if to ascertain the truth of Annette’s words through the expression on her face. “As in, _Felix Fraldarius_ kissed you?”

Annette could only manage a vigorous nod through her giggles. 

“The bastard finally did it,” Ingrid said in a tone of wonder. She sat back in her chair again, tea forgotten on the table in front of her. “After all this time, he finally found the guts to do it. I have to admit, I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Now, now, Ingrid,” Mercedes chided the other woman nonchalantly. There was a familiar twinkle in her pale eyes that Annette had long since come to associate with her teasing. “It just takes the right moment for a man to feel comfortable admitting these things. They’re naturally shy creatures, you know.” 

“Nonsense,” Ingrid snorted, clearly unconvinced. She looked back at Annette and hesitated before continuing in a much smaller voice, “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Annette replied wistfully in a low voice, as though speaking too loudly might break the spell the memory of Felix’s lips cast over her. Their kiss had been messy and uncoordinated, yet so earnest and tender that she would never forget it for the rest of her life. “I loved it.”

In all fairness, the words were inadequate to properly describe Annette’s feelings about the kiss and everything that had followed. She wasn’t sure that she could properly express just how happy she had been when Felix admitted that he loved her. It was something she had dreamed about since she’d realized she liked him back during their Academy days, something that she had hardly dared to hope would become true throughout their separation and reunion. He had held her close in the moonlit garden, bending to kiss her again as they swayed in a slow, sensuous circle, their eyes locked. It was as though floodgates had been opened somewhere deep inside him and Felix hadn’t quite been able to stop himself from exulting in it. 

“I’m so happy for you, Annie,” Mercedes said, reaching across the table and taking her hands. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“He told me that he loved me,” Annette continued, the words spilling out in a rush now that she had started talking. She tightened her fingers around Mercedes’ hands and blushed again. “I never thought I would hear those words from him.”

“He’s got more romance in him than I gave him credit for,” Ingrid sighed deeply, her gaze distant and dreamy. “I’m glad he’s finally allowing himself to be happy. You’ve been a good influence on him.”

“You’re too kind,” Annette murmured, reaching for the teapot and refilling each of their cups in turn. “I haven’t seen him yet today because he’s been busy with Dimitri planning how they will move the troops we’ve gained since taking Fhirdiad back. It will be a long march for them to reach Enbarr.” She paused and smiled. “I’m excited to see him later.”

“Tell us _everything,_ ” Ingrid said, staring at Annette with something akin to longing in her eyes. She put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. “I saw you two dancing and a few minutes later, you were both gone.”

“He asked if I’d visited the royal palace before,” Annette explained excitedly. “I told him I hadn’t, and he invited me to stroll through the gardens.”

“They _are_ beautiful at nighttime,” Ingrid remarked with a sagacious nod. 

“So we talked for a while and…” Annette continued, pausing briefly to consider how she could explain the words they had shared and the feelings they had acknowledged. “…he told me I was right about keeping our promise from five years ago. He apologized for doubting me.”

“That’s wonderful!” Mercedes said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. She looked sincerely happy as Annette described the events of the previous evening. “Then what happened?”

“We sat together for a while and he told me that he loved me,” Annette giggled as a warm blush spread rapidly across her cheeks. As much as she wanted to share her delight about all that had happened with the two of them, a part of Annette also wanted to hold back the words themselves, to savour them in the privacy of her own heart. “Then he kissed me.”

Ingrid sighed, closing her eyes slowly as if imagining the scene in her mind. “That sounds lovely,” she said. “Just like a tale from one of the great romances. I wish I knew what that felt like.”

“I’m sure you’ll have the chance someday,” Annette said, stirring sugar into her tea and considering Ingrid for a moment before continuing. “Is there someone you like?”

“Me?” Ingrid squeaked, pausing with her teacup halfway to her mouth. She hesitated just a little too long for the denial to be truly believable. “Not really. It’s just that…what you’re describing reminds me of the legends of Loog and his beloved.”

“What about Sylvain? You seem very close,” Mercedes probed gently with a familiar twinkle in her eyes. “He looked pretty happy dancing with you last evening.”

“He looked happier with every other woman he danced with last night,” Ingrid muttered huffily. “I suppose I’m not as interesting as they are, after all. He knows me too well because I’ve hung around with him and Felix for so long.”

“I don’t think I’d describe it like that,” Annette said, chewing thoughtfully on the blueberry scone. Ingrid raised her eyebrows and Mercedes smiled pleasantly at the blonde woman. “I saw his face when he was dancing with you, Ingrid. He really _saw_ you. He didn’t look at anyone else the way he did at you.”

“No way,” Ingrid said, her face going slightly pink. She shook her head and sipped her tea again. “He probably just felt obligated to ask me since nobody else was going to.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Mercedes admonished her gently. She smiled with all the grace of a kind older sister. “And Sylvain too.”

“What?” Ingrid stuttered, nearly choking on her tea for a second time that afternoon. She stared between Annette and Mercedes looking horror-struck, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Really, he was just being nice. He would never be interested in me.”

“Why would you think that?” Annette asked with frank surprise. “I never thought that Felix would reciprocate my feelings and yet here we are now.”

Ingrid gaped openly at the her, words seemingly having abandoned her for the moment. Judging by how red her face was, Annette suspected that Ingrid felt more for Sylvain than she wanted to admit and hoped that calling him a friend would settle the matter without further discussion. It seemed so obvious to Annette that Sylvain was more than a little interested in her, but she could empathize with the blonde woman’s feelings. She’d gone through the same thing when she’d finally accepted her feelings for Felix, long before they had seen each other again. The risk of pain was higher when you admitted such feelings even to yourself, much less to others, no matter how well-meaning they were. 

“It’s not like that at all,” Ingrid finally said. Her voice was strained. “It doesn’t matter if…” she let the sentence falter into nothingness, her green eyes looking careworn and sad. There was a pain in them with which Annette could sympathize. “We would never work out.”

“Why do you say that?” Mercedes asked her curiously. “As Annie said, you never know what might happen in the future.”

“We’re just friends!” Ingrid insisted again with a sense of exasperation. She set her teacup down with a loud _clink._ “Besides, like I said, I’m not that interesting or pretty like the women he usually chases.”

“Ingrid…” Annette murmured, staring at her with wide eyes. “Don’t say things like that. That isn’t true at all.”

“Annie’s right,” Mercedes concurred. She smiled at Ingrid, bright and soothing. It was in her blood to help others, and Annette had been more than grateful for her friend’s gentle kindness on more than one occasion in her life. “Isn’t it you to whom Sylvain always returns? You’re the only woman who has been by his side all the time.”

“That’s because we’re friends,” Ingrid repeated for a third time, her voice somewhat flustered. “He knows I’ll clean up whatever messes he leaves in his wake. It’s like…self-preservation for him.”

“Self-preservation,” Mercedes echoed softly, tasting the word on her tongue as if trying to understand the depth of it. Ingrid watched her like a wary cat, her shoulders tense and hands balled into fists in her lap. “Perhaps it is, after a fashion. The question remains: do you like him?”

There was real fear in Ingrid’s green eyes. She glanced between Mercedes and Annette, chewing her lip absently and pondering her response in an uncomfortably taut silence. “Even if I said yes,” Ingrid whispered, dropping her gaze to her lap. “It doesn’t matter. I’d just be another conquest for him.”

A warm breeze flowed through the open window, ruffling Annette’s hair as Ingrid’s bitterness sank in, the pain that she tried so hard to ignore and the sorrow that she carried wherever she went. The stories of chivalrous knights fighting to defend the lives of their faraway loves were only that—stories. It was plain to see in Ingrid’s eyes that as much as she longed to be a knight as renowned as those of legend, she held other longings in her heart that were no different than any other young woman.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Annette said gently. She smiled at Ingrid and hoped it was as comforting as Mercedes’ smile. “Sylvain _is_ a flirt, but when he is with you, he’s _real._ ”

“If you do like him,” Mercedes added, her voice as sweet and light as it always was and a tender smile curving her lips that even made Ingrid’s eyes soften just a little, “Perhaps you should give him a chance to prove his sincerity. I’m sure it would not be in vain.”

“I hope that you’re right,” Ingrid murmured after a long moment. She returned their smiles weakly, somehow managing to resemble a nervous schoolgirl more than she ever had during their Academy days. “I suppose he _did_ tell me I looked pretty last night. He sounded like he meant it, so perhaps…”

There was a firm rapping on the door and a servant in Blaiddyd livery entered the sunlit room. He bowed formally as he delivered his message, breaking the spell that the morning teatime had cast over them. There was, after all, still a war raging on, despite the joy that filled Annette’s heart. The women shared a knowing glance amongst each other as they rose from the table, scones and tea forgotten in the wake of the summons to council. 

\---

The council chamber in the royal palace was larger than the one back at Garreg Mach, but Dimitri had chosen to summon only the Blue Lions for this initial meeting. Despite the size of the room, it felt more intimate than the austere council chamber back at the Monastery. In addition to a large round table set squarely in the centre, the sideboard was set with jugs of cool water and fresh fruit to which Ashe and Dedue were already helping themselves when the women were ushered into the room. The murmur of conversation did not cease as they dispersed around the chamber, but the mood shifted perceptibly as Annette’s eyes were drawn to where Felix stood with Professor Byleth, Dimitri, and Sylvain by the window. Had she not known him as well as she did now, Annette might have thought he looked indifferent to her presence. 

She did know him, though, and she saw the slightest flush rise in his cheeks as she swept into the room behind Ingrid, pausing to greet Ashe first and then Dedue. She saw the way he angled his body toward her as she approached to greet the four of them standing together, and the way his eyes softened as she met his gaze. They were small things, imperceptible to anyone else. 

“Ladies,” Dimitri said warmly, clasping each of their hands in turn. He looked weary from the events of the past several days and Annette’s heart ached for him, but she understood there was little time for respite. Certainly not for him, the heir to a broken country only lately freed from the bonds of oppression. “I apologize for summoning you so urgently for this council, but I have received news which cannot wait.”

“Please, don’t worry about it,” Mercedes told him promptly. “We understand.”

“What’s happened?” Ingrid demanded, her earlier, more relaxed demeanour gone in favour of a cold businesslike attitude. 

“Let us be seated, friends,” Dimitri said gravely, gesturing toward the table. “This is not news to be heard standing like this.”

Obediently, the group of them arranged themselves around the large, ostentatious table, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. There was no small amount of kerfuffle (of which Annette could not quite pinpoint the source) as Sylvain pushed Felix into the open chair beside her and Ingrid shot him a knowing, self-satisfied smirk from across the table. The flush in his cheeks became more visible as he settled into the seat and glanced sidelong at her. She felt her own face flush even more deeply than his and smiled sheepishly at him, boldly reaching her hand under the table to squeeze his fingers. Their relationship was new, but they were familiar with each other and such small touches were more of a comfort than an unknown frontier. Felix squeezed back even as he turned to face Dimitri.

“What’s happened?” Ashe asked somewhat anxiously. “Has something happened at Garreg Mach?”

“No, thank the Goddess,” Dimitri said, shaking his head. He pulled a rolled parchment from an inner pocket of his vest and unfurled it on the table. “We’ve received this missive from the Alliance requesting our aid. They’re being invaded by the Empire’s troops as we speak.”

“Unsurprising,” Ingrid said at once. “There’s been so much infighting amongst the noble families there both for and against the Imperial agenda. The Empire has been making small forays into Alliance territory for years as it is.”

 _Lorenz…_ Annette thought with a pang of sorrow. His bloodless face invaded the forefront of her mind. He had tried to kill her before Felix had killed him. She might not even be here if it hadn’t been for the way he mercilessly ran the other man through with his sword. _May the Goddess shelter your soul._

“I know we have only just retaken Fhirdiad and that there is much still to do in Faerghus as a whole,” Dimitri went on. He surveyed the Blue Lions for a moment before speaking the inevitable. “It is with great regret that I ask you to accompany me on another mission before we have even been able to solidify our control here.”

“Please, do not apologize,” Mercedes told him, her smile warm and her voice soothing. “It is not only Faerghus who has been suffering, after all.”

“We need the status of the Alliance lords and their troops,” Felix interjected, pragmatic as ever. His fingers were still curled together with Annette’s under the table, so he gestured with his left hand instead. The talk of war had chased the blush away from his cheeks, but his amber eyes were bright with anticipation of a fight. “We know Gloucester has sided with the Empire, but that isn’t enough information to march on.”

“Details are scarce right now,” Dimitri said apologetically. “I have it on good authority that House Riegan has rallied the Alliance lords who oppose Imperial control which is approximately half of them. They are preparing to defend the onslaught, but the Empire has more troops and the advantage of the aggressor in this fight.”

“The Empire crushed the Alliance forces at Gronder Field,” Sylvain added darkly. He crossed his arms over his chest and swore under his breath. “The Empire probably wants to finish what they started before the Alliance can recover.”

“I wonder if they were planning this invasion for some time now,” Professor Byleth said slowly, pursing her lips and frowning. Dimitri nodded in agreement, a tiny smile curving his lips. “It seems foolhardy to pursue another fight after losing their control in the north only a few days ago.”

“I assume they already had their soldiers in position to invade,” Ingrid concurred. “It takes time to make plans like this, so the news that they lost Fhirdiad probably only just reached them, so they’re moving forward as planned regardless. It’s a waste of their time to halt the attack unless absolutely necessary after all the work it took them to arrive there.”

“That’s a good point,” Annette said. She tilted her head toward Dimitri. “How in the world did Claude hear that we retook Fhirdiad so quickly that he had time to send a request for aid?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I have no idea,” Dimitri said honestly. “He’s a secretive man, and he takes risky gambles to boot. If I had to guess, he probably has spies amongst our forces who have been reporting our movements. If they managed to get word to him as soon as it was apparent we were winning the battle for Fhirdiad…”

“That, or he took a gamble that we would succeed and sent the letter before he knew for certain that we had won,” Ashe finished with a grin. “He’s an interesting man.”

“Edelgard was injured during the Battle of Gronder Field as well,” Sylvain said quietly, his expression still dark. He glanced quickly at Felix, no doubt remembering his loss though the other man made no indication that he’d noticed. “Surely she isn’t leading this charge?”

“Claude’s letter indicates that the army is being led by Volkhard von Arundel,” Dimitri replied with a frown of his own. “It seems he is appointed commander of their army and regent in the Emperor’s stead, for the time being anyway.”

“He’s well known as an extremely capable soldier,” Felix said, loosening his hand from Annette’s and leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “I advise we prepare as much as possible if he’s leading the Imperial army. How soon can we conscript kingdom folk into our army? We need as many soldiers as possible.”

“Sir Gilbert is working on the logistics of that as we speak,” Professor Byleth explained calmly. Her green eyes were surprisingly serene despite the heavy topic and Annette wondered how she managed such strength of will in the face of such a challenge. They could face more former friends in the battle to come and the very thought of it made Annette’s stomach swoop uncomfortably. “Do not expect that we can rely on such reinforcements for this mission, however. We still need to commission supplies and weapons to outfit the remains of our own army in addition to the conscripts, many of whom require training before they can join us.”

 _It is an unpleasant reality of war that we must fight without reinforcements right now,_ Annette thought uneasily. She sat back against the chair and sighed, trying not to focus on the names and faces of former friends and classmates. It was bad enough that Lorenz continued to invade her thoughts; she didn’t need to create ghosts of people who she hadn’t even encountered yet. _But we’ve come this far as we are. I’m certain we will be enough to save Claude!_

“We will require the reinforcements once this campaign brings us to Enbarr,” Dedue said equally as calmly. “This mission allows some time for the blacksmiths and armories to prepare for the next stage of our fight.”

“Agreed,” Dimitri said, nodding brusquely. “On all counts. We have momentum behind us if we leave now. Besides, it will take some time to reach Derdriu.”

“The most direct route from Fhirdiad is by boat from Fraldarius territory.” Ingrid paused, glancing toward Felix expectantly. “It would not take very long at all.”

“There’s no way that we have enough boats to carry our forces to Derdriu,” Felix replied flatly. “Certainly not on such short notice. We’ll need to go by foot.”

“Isn’t returning to Garreg Mach a little out of the way?” Mercedes asked, smiling. “Surely there is a faster alternative.”

“You’re absolutely right, Mercedes,” Dimitri said. Although his face was still rather hollow from years of starvation and mental instability, he was beginning to look and sound much more like his old self. “I propose we travel south and skirt through Galatea territory quickly. We can cross into the Alliance just south of Ailell and then turn our march northeast toward Derdriu.”

There was a general murmur of assent throughout the room. Privately, Annette thought that any route that cut some time off of their travel would be worthwhile; if the Imperial army was already in position to strike, there wasn’t any time to waste. As if sensing the apprehensive direction of her thoughts, Felix turned to glance at her, offering the comfort of his warm gaze to ease her heart. He was fearless in battle, never once worrying about what-ifs or the endless variables that could affect the outcome; it was either fight to live or die trying. She smiled wanly, attempting to put on a brave face. 

“My family will do all they can to assist us,” Ingrid promised. Her green eyes flashed with the determination of a knight. “We cannot afford to let Derdriu fall. It will place the Empire too close to our doorstep for comfort.”

“More importantly,” Mercedes added, her voice sweet yet brooking no argument. “The people of the Alliance need our help.”

“If we succeed in helping them, the Alliance may be willing to ally themselves with us as we march toward Enbarr,” Annette said, hoping it would prove true. “Even with the conscripts from Faerghus, we could really use their support.”

“This plan is sound,” Professor Byleth said, smiling around the room and standing. “We should leave by the middle of next week, if not sooner. It will take time to march all that way and we do not have the luxury of time.”

“Thank you all for your time today,” Dimitri murmured, also standing and gazing over the group. “Again, I apologize for the urgency of this meeting. Please, take this time to prepare yourselves for the battle ahead. The royal armory and blacksmiths are at your disposal as my commanding officers.”

With the council concluded, the illusion of a happy life with no more blood and war evaporated in the afternoon sunlight that still streamed through the tall windows. It was so easy to imagine a world of light and love if she closed her eyes, remembering the magical evening before this news arrived, to recall the warmth of Felix’s breath against her cheek and the strength of his arms wrapped around her waist. Annette would have thought it all a dream even now if she hadn’t noticed the little signs of affection that were wholly him, special and secret, meant for her eyes alone. 

“I guess you’re off to the armory?” she said quietly with a wry smile, turning to him as she stood from her seat. 

“Yeah,” Felix mumbled. The bridge of his nose was slightly pink again. “I need to speak to them about some specific weapons I’d like made. Then I have business to take care of with Dimitri and Professor Byleth.”

“I see,” Annette said. She didn’t feel hurt by this. She understood the necessity of these things and she didn’t begrudge him the time he required to properly prepare. As it was, Annette had her own duties to handle. She had taken a few fleeting moments to enjoy the company of her friends over tea, but the time for such frivolities had passed. “I’ll be in the infirmary with Mercie. We need to get as many soldiers healed up before we depart for Derdriu, and she could use the help.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” Felix warned her. He glared over her shoulder at Ingrid and Mercedes, both of whom were standing slightly back and watching them with mild amusement. “I want to show you something later. You’ll like it.”

“I am sure I will,” Annette murmured. She reached out to squeeze his hand, wondering how much his face would flush if she kissed him right here. His fingers tightened around hers and she smiled up at him. “I’ll wait for you.”

\---

There was always work to be done during war and Annette was not so naïve to believe that retaking Fhirdiad would result in an overnight change for the better. The people of Faerghus had suffered for five long years under Imperial control, forced to participate in the destruction of the country they loved and called home. She could remember with vivid clarity how her uncle had quickly bent his old knee to their oppressors, claiming it would be safer to accept subjugation to a foreign power than to be forcibly bent to their will. Annette knew there was more to his decision than that, of course; there were always political motivations and he wasn’t a warrior of the caliber she had come to know amongst the Blue Lions. 

Civilians and soldiers alike had been injured during the conflict against Cornelia. Many had already died of their wounds as clerics worked around the clock to stabilize as many people as they could. However, magic took a hard toll on the body and Professor Byleth had made it clear that both herself and Mercedes were far too valuable to their team to risk burnout assisting with the injured. It was a practical precaution that Mercedes ignored with all the grace of a healer who found true fulfillment in helping the weak; she’d only agreed to an morning tea-time because Ingrid had insisted that she take a break per the Professor’s orders. If not for the council meeting, she’d have returned to her healing duties as soon as it was over. As it was, she and Annette worked late into the evening, offering what reprieve from pain that they could. 

Annette did not have the same skill that her friend possessed, but she was no less devoted to using her talents for the betterment of all. She knew when to draw the line though, and by the time she caught Mercedes dozing in a chair at the bedside of a patient, Annette realized it was past time to put her foot down. _She’s always been there when I needed a push to do the right thing,_ Annette thought. She crouched down beside the sleeping priestess, careful not to make a sound that would disturb the multitude of people nearby. _The least I can do is make sure she gets enough rest._

“Mercie,” Annette shook her friend’s shoulder gently, leaning close to her ear so as to not wake the patients around them who had managed to fall into an uneasy slumber. “You need to sleep. You’ll be of no help to anyone if you faint from exhaustion during our march to Derdriu.”

The blonde woman’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of her name and she rubbed her eyes as Annette spoke. “These people need my help, Annie,” she protested, smiling weakly. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Annette insisted. “You’re only human, Mercie. Even with your talents, you could seriously hurt yourself without proper rest. I don’t want to see you lying in this hospital bed next!”

Mercedes sighed, closing her eyes again and leaning against Annette’s shoulder. “It’s kind of you to worry,” she said, unable to keep the weariness out of her voice. “You should go now and get some rest yourself. I know that you’re prone to late nights studying even now.”

“Leave it to you to worry about someone else when you’re almost asleep in this chair again,” Annette chided, though there was no malice in the words. “Allow me to care for _you_ this time, Mercie. Please, let’s get you to bed. The patients aren’t going anywhere—you can come back in the morning.”

Slowly, despite her continued protests, Mercedes permitted Annette to wrap an arm around her shoulders and lead her out of the infirmary. The other healers who were monitoring the patients overnight nodded approvingly as they passed into the brightly lit corridor. It was deserted except for a pair of patrolling guards at every juncture, none of whom questioned their destination nor why they were about so late into the evening. There was no one in the royal palace who did not recognize the Blue Lions who had accompanied Dimitri into the heart of Fhirdiad and overthrown the oppressor. Annette wasn’t used to the admiring—and sometimes awed—looks that people would throw at her, but she supposed it was better than feeling judged inadequate.

Dimitri had provided guest rooms for each of them upon taking control of the palace, but they were far from the hospital wing. “I’m sorry I can’t provide more personal accommodations,” he had said regretfully to herself, Mercedes, and Ashe, as though the sumptuous down-filled bedding and private bathrooms in each suite were as bare as their dormitories back at Garreg Mach. “Once things have settled down, I will personally ensure each of you is appointed a proper suite of rooms.”

The door was very large, but it swung open without a sound. A fire was burning low on the hearth as the women entered the room, casting it with a warm, sleepy glow. Mercedes yawned and shrugged out of Annette’s grasp, pausing a few paces away. 

“Thank you, Annie,” she said sincerely. “I _am_ exhausted. I’m glad I have you to look out for me.”

“You’ll always have me,” Annette promised. She put her hands on her hips and fixed Mercedes with the fiercest stare she could muster, although the effect was somewhat ruined by the half-smile she couldn’t quite hide. “Don’t you dare think of sneaking back down after I’ve gone either. Don’t make me find Ashe or Dedue to guard your door!”

It was an empty, teasing threat and Mercedes nodded with mock solemnity. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she chuckled through another yawn. “I’ll go back at dawn.”

Annette remained as long as it took to ensure Mercedes was comfortably tucked into her bed. By the time she crept back across the room and latched door quietly behind her, Annette was almost certain she’d heard faint snoring from the bed. 

_She’s weak from using too much magic recently,_ Annette thought, trying to suppress her own weariness in favour of visiting the kitchens. They hadn’t eaten anything while tending the wounded, and she didn’t sleep well on an empty stomach. _I haven’t had to use mine as much since the battle ended. Offensive magic has no place in the aftermath, but supportive magic is always useful and there isn’t enough of it to handle the sheer volume of people who need it._

The kitchens were much grander than the ones back at Garreg Mach and Annette still felt a little nervous slipping inside in search of food after missing the undoubtably scrumptious meal. There were still a handful of scullions lurking by the sinks, all of whom turned to stare openly at her as she stepped into the room. She smiled at them but none of the scullions returned it. They returned to their work wordlessly while Annette filled a plate with leftover meat and vegetables as unobtrusively as possible. They didn’t say anything when she pulled up a chair at the table though she had no doubt they were subtly watching her every movement. It was a nettlesome feeling. 

She was still sitting at the large table in the centre of the room—admiring the size of the oven and wondering how many cookies she could bake at one time in it—when the door opened again some twenty minutes later. The scullions turned automatically at the sound of the heavy doors swinging inward, but they wasted no time gaping at Felix’s usual scowling expression. They turned back to the sink and appeared to redouble their efforts to scrub the dishes clean. Annette thought it was rather unfair that they would stare blatantly at her without speaking a single word but found him either uninteresting or intimidating enough not to do the same. She glared at him as he approached.

“What’s that look for?” Felix asked defensively. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

Annette shrugged and returned her attention to the remainder of her food. “Don’t worry about it,” she said lightly. “How did you know I was here?”

He shrugged in a deliberately careless motion. “Just a hunch,” he said equally as lightly. She didn’t believe his tone for an instant. “You’re always hungry, aren’t you? Stacks of steaks and cakes right?”

“ _Felix!_ ” she moaned with horror, glancing quickly toward the scullions and back to him. His amber eyes were amused. “If you cannot do me the favour of forgetting you ever heard that, at least do me the courtesy of not mentioning it in front of strangers!”

“Sure, sure,” he replied with another shrug. He dropped his voice so that the others in the room wouldn’t hear him. He was blushing again, faint as a dusty rose, but Annette could see it as plain as day. She wondered if he’d always been prone to blushing in her presence or if it was a recent occurrence. “If you must know…I asked around if anyone had seen you. I did want to show you something, but it can wait if you’re busy.”

Much like with Mercedes, Annette knew she was pushing the bounds of exhaustion and that she needed her sleep. The adrenaline from the night before had worn off and left her feeling drained even as she delighted in the memory from the moonlit garden. She didn’t doubt that Felix was equally as exhausted as she was, if not more so—the man hadn’t stopped moving since they arrived in Fhirdiad. When he wasn’t working through battle plans with Professor Byleth and Dimitri, he was training with Sylvain or Ingrid. When he wasn’t training, he was spending inordinate amounts of time with the blacksmith and in the armory, occasionally taking the time to eat a quick meal before beginning the cycle again. 

“I’m not,” she said instead, choosing not to mention any of those thoughts. “I made Mercie go to bed before she fell over and thought I’d grab a bite to eat since we skipped dinner.”

Felix crossed his arms and looked disapproving. 

“Don’t worry,” Annette hurried on a little sheepishly. “I’m fine now. What did you want to show me?”

“It’s this way,” Felix replied, not answering the question. Although his voice was steady, Annette detected a slight quaver of anxiousness. She wondered what he thought about the night before, if he’d given it much thought at all. 

They walked silently through the halls of the palace, suddenly self-conscious of the tiny gap between them. She glanced sidelong at him, feeling her own face flushing as the memory of his kiss resurfaced with all the force of love and desire that she had nursed for so many long years. He sensed her glance even as she slid her eyes toward him and swallowed almost indiscernibly. It was a dance of small, intricate steps that neither of them quite understood the pattern, yet they followed the other’s lead as easily as if they’d done it a thousand times before.

They _had_ done this before, after all. 

They turned another corner and headed down a corridor that Annette had not yet seen. Tapestries detailing the legends of Loog and the Maiden of Wind lined the walls, periodically interspersed with marble statues of each of the characters who appeared throughout the tale. Everyone knew the stories of Loog’s bravery, his cunning and his wit—they were the very basis of kingdom culture. It was a wondrous place and Annette sucked in an awed breath as they passed the first sets of tapestries, admiring the richness of the colours. Felix watched her closely, looking rather pleased with himself.

“These are beautiful,” Annette said, turning to face him and trying not to let the blush on her cheeks spread. “Is this…?”

“No,” he said, surreptitiously glancing up and down both ends of the corridor. Satisfied that there was no one nearby, he linked his arm through hers. Felix’s voice was unsteady when he spoke again. “That door down there. That’s where we’re going.”

Annette might have appreciated the impressive double doors more if she hadn’t been so preoccupied with Felix’s closeness and his bold foray into public affection, never mind that there was no one around to witness it. 

_It still feels like a dream,_ Annette thought, tightening her arm around his very slightly. She wondered (not for the first time) if he’d told Sylvain or Dimitri about what happened in the gardens or if he’d kept the memory to himself. Despite his own bravery in matters of the sword, and his ease with her in the past, Felix seemed surprisingly shy with her now. _I’m sure he feels the same._

“I thought that since you don’t really use melee weapons, you might find this place more useful,” he said awkwardly, pushing the door open and glancing around the wide room. “You probably haven’t had time to come here yet, right?”

“No,” Annette confirmed, pulling her arm out of his grip and springing forward for a better look. The library was many times larger than the one at Garreg Mach, with several floors of tall bookcases and which probably housed spellbooks she had never even heard of before. “I didn’t even consider that there might be a library here!”

“I never spent much time here in the past,” Felix said from behind her, sounding relieved. “I thought you might like it, though there isn’t much time to explore it before we depart.”

“It’s amazing,” Annette said, turning back and smiling. She didn’t care that her cheeks were flushed pink or how her eyes were shining with excitement. “I’m so glad you brought me here.”

Felix flushed at the words and his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Don’t blow it up,” he said with mock seriousness. “Or there will no be no books left.” He paused and added as an afterthought, “And Dimitri might be upset with me.”  


“Don’t worry,” Annette said reassuringly, stepping closer and smiling. “I’ll be careful. You’ll just have to help me rebuild it if I _do_ blow it up.”

“I suppose we could arrange that,” Felix said slowly, closing the scant distance between them with one stride. When he bent to kiss her now, it was slow and sweet and tinged with a tentative hope for the future. Annette sighed into the kiss as he wrapped his arms about her, feeling an underlying fear that she really _had_ dreamed the whole previous night evaporate into mist. 

\---

The march to Derdriu was uneventful, as far as such things go. Annette alternated her time riding with Mercedes and Ashe near the front of the procession and with Felix at the back. Sometimes, Sylvain or Ingrid joined them, and once even Dimitri fell back to ride with them for a time. She had the distinct impression that Felix had not bothered to enlighten his friends of their budding relationship, yet they seemed to know what had happened all the same. She figured it was probably Ingrid who had mentioned it in the first place—she wouldn’t have had any qualms about embarrassing Felix. Even so, he was especially careful not to touch her in Sylvain’s presence, and Annette suspected it was because he dreaded the other man’s inevitable teasing. 

By the time the sea air filled their nostrils, they had been travelling for the better part of a fortnight and Annette was relieved that she and Felix had fallen into an easy relationship that much resembled the friendship they had worked so hard to cultivate. He preferred to keep his affection for her private whenever possible, though he could not hide the tender look in his eyes when he saw her, regardless of who was there to see it. For her part, Annette was content to allow him to take things as slowly as he wished, only permitting herself to reach out and twine their hands together or sit close beside him in the evenings. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly at ease once they’d made camp, he would wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. It made her heart pound faster in her chest, no matter how she many times she reminded herself that this should feel normal now. 

The sun was blazing the day that they finally reached the outskirts of Derdriu. Dimitri called for a halt a short distance away from the city proper as Professor Byleth began to shout preliminary orders to the army. War was a horrible experience, but it was also excruciatingly slow at times. You could not simply march an army to the gates of a city and expect to engage a battle; it was absolutely necessary to ascertain the enemy’s position and—as was the case for their army—determine the exact status of the defenders whom they had arrived to reinforce. Moving without this information could mean unnecessarily harsh losses at best and utter ruin at worst. 

The Professor had ordered Sylvain, Felix, and Ashe to accompany the forward riders to gather this intelligence. They had left well before dawn with the cover of darkness to allow them the best chance to avoid detection by Imperial forces patrolling the area. It wasn’t a foolproof method, but it was better to take precautions to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to their presence. It felt surprisingly lonely without Felix’s sure presence nearby in the column of soldiers after having spent the last several weeks in close company with him, but it offered Annette some much-needed time with Mercedes.

“Look there,” she pointed excitedly across the water from their vantage point on top of a hill. “It’s Derdriu! Wow, it’s so beautiful.”

“I’ve heard it is one of the loveliest cities in the world,” Mercedes laughed, her eyes following Annette’s extended finger. “It’s supposed to be a favourite for courting couples and newlyweds to visit.”

“It won’t be for much longer if we don’t succeed in our mission,” Annette said, sobering immediately at the thought. “I do hope Claude is all right. I wonder if there’s anyone else there with him?”

“Who knows,” Mercedes shrugged. “Some, probably. Do you see those boats moored way out there?”

Annette squinted across the city spread before them, domed roofs glinting brightly in the sunlight and tall, stone spires reaching for the heavens. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “They aren’t flying any banners, but surely they cannot be Imperial ships?”

“I doubt it,” Mercedes concurred, frowning in concentration. “They don’t look like warships either.”

“As long as they don’t impede our progress in the city, I don’t think they will be a problem,” Annette said. She glanced back down the hill. “Perhaps we should head back. The others will be back soon, and I don’t think the Professor will delay sending the army forth.”

Together, they descended the hill to rejoin the officers gathered with Dimitri as they awaited the imminent return of the forerunners. Sir Gilbert was speaking in a low voice with the prince and Professor Byleth. He shot her a rather thoughtful look as she approached, his hard eyes softening just a little and the corners of his mouth crinkling into the ghost of a smile. He spoke to her sometimes, usually of inconsequential matters like the weather or if she’d read anything interesting recently. Occasionally, he would ask her if she had suffered any injuries during battle or ask her to stay far back from the frontlines, though there was no real force behind that last; Annette was certain that her father knew he could not keep her from the frontlines unless he physically tied her to a tree and cast a silencing spell on her. 

“Ah, there they are now,” Dimitri nodded grimly toward the three figures approaching at top speed from the direction of Derdriu. “Ho, what news?”

“Your Highness,” Sylvain panted breathlessly, his hair flopping madly about his head as his horse came skidding to a halt. “The Imperial forces have been delayed by guerrilla skirmishes. It’s how they’ve managed to hold out long enough for us to arrive with reinforcements.”

“They won’t hold out for much longer though,” Ashe added equally as breathlessly. His face was flushed though his eyes were bright with excitement. “They need our help right away. Imperial forces have broken the gate and are battling in the streets as we speak.”

“We confirmed that the Imperial army is indeed headed by Lord Arundel,” Felix added, the only one of the three to not appear winded. “The civilians seem to have been evacuated from the city already, so there is no danger to non-combatants.”

“Unless we lose,” Sylvain added cheerfully. “Which we won’t, of course.”

“Let’s not get overconfident,” Dimitri said with a tight grin. “Though I am sure we have the advantage in this fight, given the circumstances.”

“Claude must have been planning for this,” Professor Byleth said with a note of impressed approval in her voice. “He always was a…creative student.”

“This was a risky gambit,” Dimitri said, sounding equally impressed. “He put his soldiers and his people at risk simply on the belief we would arrive in time. We should not let this opportunity go to waste.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Sylvain said gleefully, shooting a sly glance toward Felix. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner this war can end, and we can all go back to living a normal life.”

 _A normal life,_ Annette thought, catching Felix’s eye. His expression was unreadable. _What will be normal for any of us, after five years of fighting for our lives?_

She tried not to think about what the future might—or might not—hold for any of them. 

\---

Being a thriving port city, the cobblestoned streets of Derdriu were wide to accommodate a variety of goods being shipped in and out of the country. Colourful awnings and tall urns bursting with flowers lined the streets, giving the whole city the appearance of a bustling marketplace full of life and laughter. Annette thought she could understand why it was beloved of tourists and travelling couples alike—even with the sounds of battle carrying through the streets, Derdriu retained an air of pride in its history, standing tall and defiant in the face of Imperial aggression. Where Fhirdiad’s narrow streets felt claustrophobic to fight through as civilians ran screaming in every direction, the light of hope dim in their eyes, Derdriu was brimming with energy and rebellion against an oppressive Empire. 

_They were prepared for this,_ Annette thought, wiping the sweat from her brow and surveying the blood-spattered buildings in the marketplace. Doors had been securely locked and barred, barricades had been set up in the streets and along the docks. She wondered what other precautions Claude had taken for the defence of Derdriu. _Claude ordered a full evacuation, but the city was ready for war._

The battle was arduous and it was not until the sun was beginning to sink low over the horizon, casting a fiery glow across the sea and illuminating the towers of the seat of House Riegan, that they finally managed to repel the Imperial army away from the gates of Derdriu. Annette had borne witness to the capture and final end of Lord Arundel and the memory of Dimitri’s haunted voice echoed in her mind as the man’s body was covered with a plain, white sheet to be carried away and burned. Felix had placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed her gently, saying nothing. Perhaps he understood that words alone were not enough to ease the burden of taking life after life. 

“So, you guys made it here after all,” Claude said with a familiar grin. He strode over to where the Blue Lions had gathered looking completely at ease in the aftermath of battle despite the blood staining his richly embroidered jacket. Hilda followed him with an equally self-satisfied smile on her face and carrying an axe which was at least as large as she was. She winked conspiratorially when she noticed Annette’s bulging eyes. 

“Claude,” Dimitri moved forward to greet him cordially, clasping his hand and smiling thinly. “It has been a very long time. I’m glad to see that you are well.”

“As well as I can be, given the circumstances,” he agreed soberly, though a flicker of amusement still flashed in his deep green eyes. “I must admit, I’m glad that you came to help us. You’re all as soft-hearted as I remember.”

“Soft-hearted?” Dimitri repeated slowly. His tone was airy but there was a hardness to his blue gaze when he responded. “It seems to me that you took a gamble with the expectation that we would answer your plea for aid.”

“Of course I did,” Claude replied frankly. “You’re the type to put others first, so I was sure you’d come. Especially,” he added, glancing toward Professor Byleth and grinning again. “With good ol’ Teach here. She wouldn’t have left us to die, right?”

“Certainly not!” Professor Byleth smiled warmly at him. “You know us well, to so confidently lure the Imperial army into this trap. Things could have gone awfully far awry very, very easily.”

“I spent a lot of time watching and learning about everyone back at the Academy, so I was very confident you’d show up in time,” Claude shrugged. His tone was rather flippant, but Annette had the sense that he meant every word he spoke. “And I haven’t been idle these past five years either. As you know, I like taking dangerous risks.”

 _Spies,_ Annette understood, nodding slightly. Felix scowled at the implication in Claude’s words, though the other man didn’t notice. _As we suspected. Lucky for us, he’s on our side._

“You’re much more fond of such gambles than I,” Dimitri said gravely. “I will gladly leave you to them.”

“You won’t need to worry about that,” Claude chuckled. He raised his hand and proffered the bow he still held. “Take this and use it how you see fit. I won’t be needing it any longer.”

Dimitri stood stock still. He stared at the massive bow—easily twice the size of a normal one, by Annette’s estimation—as if in shock. Claude stood equally as still, no longer smiling and his eyes trained on Dimitri’s face. Professor Byleth’s face flickered from surprise to thoughtful contemplation, but she remained silent as the two men stood in a tense silence. Even Felix’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead at this announcement. 

“What do you mean?” Dimitri asked after a long moment, although it wasn’t really a question. Annette could hear the careful note of resignation in his voice even as he tried to hide it. “What are you planning?”

“As of today, the Leicester Alliance is no more,” Claude replied bluntly. “Take this. You’ll have more use for it than I.”

“That’s not an answer,” Dimitri said, rather more mildly than Annette expected. 

“Look,” Claude said seriously, pushing the bow into Dimitri’s hands. “You’re on the path to leading Fódlan, whether you intended it or not. The Alliance lords will follow you into that new future. As I’m sure you can guess,” he added with a glance around the marketplace. “Most of them are none too happy with the Empire right now.”

“But what are you planning on doing?” Professor Byleth asked again, frowning. “Isn’t this a Relic?”

Claude nodded at her. “I’m sure you are familiar with the story of the birth of the Alliance,” he said, not answering the question. “Being that it is an integral part of Faerghus’ history as well. I’m putting things back to the way they should be.”

There was a weighty silence as this pronouncement settled over the assembled crowd. Annette heard Sylvain curse under his breath with amazement.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I’ve already gained the support of the lords. As soon as I step down as the leader of the Alliance, everything will be in place.”

“What will you do after that, then?” Professor Byleth asked, her voice gentle and tinged with regret.

“I’m leaving Fódlan,” Claude stated, his voice strong and clear, carrying through the marketplace as if borne by the wind itself. He paused for a moment for the words to sink in, though there were no real vestiges of uncertainty now. “I have dreams I wish to see to fruition which cannot be done here. I became the leader of the Alliance to pursue those dreams, but it didn’t quite play out the way that I had intended.”

“You will be missed,” Professor Byleth said, her smile soft in the face of his decision. Claude laughed; his eyes bright with a flicker of sincere gratitude.

“I also have some information you’ll be interested to know,” Claude said, his lighthearted tone returned along with his easy smile. “If you’re looking to rescue Lady Rhea, I have it on good authority that she is being held captive in the Imperial capital.”

Mercedes gasped and gripped Annette’s arm, her nails digging painfully into her skin. They had suspected as much already—there were few other explanations for the Archbishop’s prolonged absence—but hearing the words spoken with such surety was difficult, nonetheless. Professor Byleth exchanged a glance with Dimitri and Sir Gilbert and nodded grimly. 

_We were already planning to move on Enbarr next,_ Annette thought, placing a soothing hand over Mercedes’ fingers. _I’m sure with the Professor, we can save her._

“Thank you, Claude,” Dimitri said, reaching out and clasping his hand again. “I echo Professor Byleth: you will be missed.”

“Is that so,” he said musingly. “Perhaps we can promise to meet again, one day. I think that I would like that. Don’t be too hard on me when that day comes, Your Kingliness.”

With that said, Claude turned on his heel and strode away to find his destiny.

\---

The road back to Garreg Mach was less fraught with battle and tension than their rush south from Fhirdiad. True to Claude’s word, the Alliance lords offered no resistance as they passed through the new territories of the Kingdom of Faerghus. It had been hundreds of years since the Alliance had splintered away from Faerghus and formed its own leadership under their infamous council of nobles, a sundering which had left many people across the two countries with hard feelings. It would not be an easy amalgamation, not with the scars still aching on the hearts of the people across both countries, but it also wasn’t a problem for right now. The final stretch of war was looming before them and there was nothing more pressing than bringing it to a long-awaited end.

Returning to the Monastery felt like a kind of homecoming. As its huge, broken towers appeared on the horizon, Annette felt a calmness settle over her heart. There is an easing of pain in returning to a place of long familiarity, and despite the knowledge that there were still battles laying ahead of them, Annette allowed herself to let go of some of the pain she still carried. As much as she loved Fhirdiad and the time she had spent there (both in her childhood and more recently as an adult) it was not a home in the same way that Garreg Mach was.

Therefore, she supposed that it was unsurprising to stumble across her father on his knees in prayer before the empty plinth where the statue of the Goddess had once stood; the Monastery was, in many ways, more his home than it would ever truly be hers. She didn’t begrudge him that, not anymore. After all these years of searching for him and withstanding the heartbreak he had caused, she had come to understand some small part of his own inner pain and the way he coped with that pain. Perhaps his choices were incomprehensible to others, but Annette strove to understand what she could. In many ways, that was what differed her from her father.

“Praying again, Father?” she asked when he looked up at the sound of her footsteps. His face was always haunted, and the bright sunlight of Blue Sea Moon did nothing to ease that. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to disturb you.”

“You have done nothing wrong,” he said quietly, shaking his head and rising stiffly to his feet. “Praying is all I can do. There is no other way for me to atone for the deaths that I failed to prevent at Duscur.”

Annette stepped up beside him and folded her hands together, bowing her head before the empty plinth. “I understand that you believe this is all your fault,” she said after a moment, her eyes closed in prayerful reflection. “Yet you must know that you are wrong. Neither His Highness nor the late King Lambert blame you for that.”

“They should,” he insisted roughly. “My prayers are a poor atonement, but they are all that I have.”

“Wrong, and wrong again,” Annette said harshly. She wondered if she was overstepping the boundary between them in saying so, but words once spoken cannot be unspoken. She forged on, praying that he would begin to understand the depth of his foolish pride. “You cannot atone through prayer alone. You must do so through your actions.”

 _There is nothing wrong with prayer,_ Annette thought, her eyes flickering open. _But prayer requires action to become true atonement._

“It was my duty to protect the royal family,” Gilbert protested, his voice strained. “I ought to have died that day in Duscur, not the king.”

“You did die that day,” Annette snapped, her patience ebbing thin now. She rounded to face him, the colour in her cheeks high. “You’ve been no better than His Highness was not so long ago!”

Gilbert stared at her in open-mouthed shock. Annette wasn’t usually one to raise her voice—except sometimes toward Felix when he was being particularly obtuse—but this needed to be said. There was no Lord Rodrigue left to die and snap another walking corpse out of his personal hell. Truly, she didn’t _want_ to see anyone else die in such a way again; once was one time too many. She hoped that the words that she spoke now—each one straight from the depths of her heart—would be enough to pierce the web of sorrow that her father had trapped himself within.

“My knightly vows are broken,” Gilbert whispered after a long moment of stunned silence. “My knighthood is lost.”

“Is it?” Annette tapped a slim finger against her chin and pinned him with a cold stare. Sometimes, she wondered if trying to bring him home _was_ the right thing to do. He was so absorbed with self-pity that a shadow of doubt sometimes creeped into her resolve. He had made his choice, after all; who was she to try and change it? “I always thought knighthood was more than that, not something so easily lost. Regardless,” she added, feeling a sudden wash of sorrow flood her heart. “I wish….I wish that you had given a thought to Mother and I before you disappeared. No matter what anyone else thought of you, we would have always been by your side.”

“I am sorry, Annette,” Gilbert murmured, his voice surprisingly small. He sounded like he meant it, but she wasn’t sure if that should matter now.

“I don’t want your apologies,” she said, turning away again. “They are like your concept of atonement: worthless without action.” Annette paused and began to walk away, tears threatening to fill her eyes. “I came here to pray for our safety in the coming battles, but now I find myself unable to do so.”

She had walked perhaps three or four paces before his voice rang out with a surprising amount of vigor. 

“Annette, wait,” Gilbert said. 

Annette stopped, but she did not turn. The tears were still there, still waiting for her to give in and let them fall. She didn’t want her father to see her cry for him. 

“Yes, Father?” she replied formally, her voice still cold. 

She could hear him follow to where she stood and place a hesitant hand on her shoulder. Annette stiffened, unused to his touch after so many years apart. For a moment, they stood as if posing for a frieze, afraid to move in case the spell broke and things went back to exactly as they were before. 

“I want you to take these,” he said finally, dropping his hand from her shoulder and pulling a stack of letters tied with twine from the pouch that ever hung at his side. He gently pushed them into her hands and pressed her fingers closed around them. 

“Letters…” Annette murmured, dropping her eyes to the bundle and flicking through them. “Addressed to me and to Mother…”

“If you wish to read them, you may understand,” Gilbert said, his voice softer than she had heard him ever use before. “Should the contents make you sad, I beg you, please burn them.”

“Why now?” Annette asked as he moved past her toward the exit. She stood still facing the broken altar. “Why did you never send us word if…?”

“I could not bear to send them, not after abandoning you both,” Gilbert said, his back to hers, neither of them turning to face the other. She wondered if there were tears in his old eyes too. “As to your first question, suffice to say that it’s time to show you that I care.”

In the silence of the broken Cathedral, Annette held the letters in her trembling hands and wondered when she would have the strength to read them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a difficult one to write in places. I found the aftermath of the Battle of Derdriu particularly challenging because of Claude's leaving, but overall I'm happy with how it turned out. As for the support scene with Gilbert, I took some liberties with it because honestly, the originals leave me feeling dissatisfied. I really wanted to explore Annette's feelings about her father here and the pain she's experienced trying to bring him home.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the Netteflix/Felannie fluff here :) It's so refreshing to write something more direct between them now. Many thanks for your continued support, and I hope you liked this one.
> 
> Love, Kami


	33. Under A Bright Sky

Garland Moon was perhaps the most wonderful time of Felix’s life. 

If anyone had walked up to him back before he returned to the Monastery during the depths of winter and told him that within five months, he would willingly profess his love for a woman whose voice had ensnared him five years ago, Felix would have laughed and assumed that such a person was mad. He was not a man inclined to such sentimentality and he’d never given much thought to relationships while growing up; betrothals were a bitter reminder of his brother’s untimely death and the weight of the Fraldarius future that had fallen unceremoniously on his shoulders ever since. He didn’t want to suffer the pain of loss the way Ingrid had or be the cause of such pain. Life was easier without feelings like that.

Life is not meant to be easy, and the more you sought to circumvent the pain, the more it would end up hurting you in the end. Felix had changed since first setting foot within Garreg Mach, and he realized that he did not wish to return to the man he had once been. To return to a time without Annette was a truly devastating prospect; in many ways, her influence on Felix indirectly helped him begin to repair his relationship with his father. Without her, the pain of his loss would still feel harder to bear, even with Sylvain and Ingrid to comfort him. 

He had learned to hope, and with the conclusion of the war on the horizon, Felix was loathed to let it go. Annette’s bright smile and honest joy in even the simplest of tasks was infectious and Felix found it difficult not to be happy in her presence. The more time he spent riding beside her on campaigns or with her curled up under his arm as she read or sang or slept was enough to make him wish he’d allowed himself to love her sooner. He wondered if his father had felt this way when he was young and courting a beautiful woman. He’d never asked, and now there was no way to know. Felix liked to think that he had.

Yet as Blue Sea Moon began to pass, the joy of being together with Annette without any denials or lies separating them anymore was tempered by the looming march to Enbarr. The tension that permeated their war councils was practically palpable and people spoke in hushed voices of “when we win” rather than “if we win.” Felix knew that it was imperative for him to keep his wits about him—even with Dimitri back to his senses, there was always a chance he could slip back into his boar persona and put them all at risk again. The fact that he was clearly hiding something about this campaign did nothing to ease Felix’s nerves about it. 

“Well, Dimitri?” he finally said, his voice harsh. They had been back in Garreg Mach for over a week since reclaiming Derdriu and sending orders to Fhirdiad to arrange for a handful of kingdom dignitaries to travel to the city and begin the long task of reintegrating the Alliance with Faerghus. “Are you going to tell us the truth?”

“What do you mean?” Dimitri asked as he settled himself into a chair and turned to look at Felix. He did not look very surprised by the question. 

“We didn’t want to ask back in Derdriu,” Ingrid explained. She spread her hands out in a helpless gesture. “It didn’t seem like the right time.”

“Lord Arundel,” Ashe clarified when Ingrid stopped talking. “He said something about you and Edelgard being good siblings and killing each other…”

Dimitri stroked his chin thoughtfully, but he didn’t deny it. They waited for him to continue, watching a curious mix of emotions flash across his face. Felix had been near enough to Dimitri during the fight to hear most of what Lord Arundel said to him as they battled, and his curiosity had been piqued ever since. Not only that, but he’d seen Dimitri closeted with a wide variety of people back in Fhirdiad—from noble to common servant to tenured soldiers—and wondered what he could possibly have to discuss with so many of individuals of such varied backgrounds. It was clear Dimitri was hiding something and Felix had secrets like that; if he’d learned anything from all this time back at Garreg Mach, it ought to be to trust his friends.

“To suggest that the king and the emperor are related,” Ingrid murmured, shaking her head and looking bemused. “It’s blasphemy.”

“I suppose I never told any of you,” Dimitri finally said, sounding resigned though not unhappy to discuss the matter. He glanced toward Professor Byleth. “I recall mentioning this to the Professor, but…” 

Dimitri paused and cleared his throat. Felix crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently against the stone floor, earning a sharp glare from Annette that he could feel from the five feet of distance that separated them. 

“My stepmother was Edelgard’s birth mother,” Dimitri said, shuffling the parchments in front of him to keep his hands busy. “That’s what Lord Arundel meant when he said that.”

“How in the world did _that_ happen?” Sylvain asked, his mouth hanging open in amazement. “I never heard a word about it in all these years.”

Dimitri shrugged. “It was a well-guarded secret. She was forced to flee the Empire and arrived in Fhirdiad where my father fell in love with her at first sight. They married and joined our families together.” He paused again as if considering whether to continue the tale. “I don’t remember my birth mother at all, so my stepmother is all I have ever known. She died in Duscur along with everyone else on that tragic day.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Annette murmured, ever cognizant of others’ sorrow. “That must have been such a difficult burden to bear.”

“Wait a second,” Felix said at the same time, feeling somewhat more shocked by this revelation than he wanted to admit. “I never knew about this. Did my old man know?”

“Thank you,” Dimitri smiled kindly at Annette. Turning back to Felix, he nodded brusquely. “He did, yes. Only those close to my father knew. It was a very well-guarded secret, and I was never to speak of it. Truly, it feels…freeing to tell you all about it now.”

“So no one would have known your connection to Edelgard either,” Ashe mused softly, his eyes full of tender compassion. “I know how hard it must be to fight against an enemy who is also your family.”

“How very sad,” Mercedes agreed, looking troubled. “I can begin to understand how deep your pain ran ever since the Battle of Garreg Mach. Edelgard would be your only family left now, is that not so?”

_No,_ Felix thought, frowning in spite of himself. He knew she didn’t mean it as an insult, but the response was instinctual. _He’s a Fraldarius as much as a Blaiddyd. He has Sylvain and Ingrid too. We’re all here for him._

“In the legal sense of the term, perhaps,” Dimitri replied, glancing toward Felix with the ghost of a smile. 

“Wouldn’t you not have met until you attended the Academy?” Annette interjected, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You grew up in different countries, right? Fighting family is one of the absolute worst things in the world, but at least if she’s a stepsister you hardly knew…” she sighed and shrugged helplessly. “It’s just a thought. Maybe it will help make things a bit easier.”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t the case,” Dimitri said calmly. “She spent a short time living in Fhirdiad. Although it was a very, very long time ago, we became fast friends.”

“Oh, so _she_ was your little girlfriend,” Sylvain said eagerly, smacking the table with his open palms and causing everyone to swivel to face him. “Is she the one to whom you gifted that dagger?”

“Sylvain,” Dimitri snapped, narrowing his eyes at the redhead across the table. “Please, refrain from making such inane and embarrassing comments until _after_ our meeting is adjourned. This is still a war council, after all.”

“She is the Emperor now,” Felix interrupted, glaring at Sylvain for good measure. It didn’t seem to faze him at all, but Felix hadn’t expected a reaction. It was the principal of the matter. “The fact that she is your stepsister and childhood friend—will that be a problem in the battles ahead? Can you bring yourself to kill her?”

There was a long silence as Dimitri gave thought to Felix’s words. It was a valid question; as Ashe and Annette had both mentioned, fighting family is one of the most difficult things to do. Even fighting one-time friends and classmates had proven difficult for many of them and coping with the guilt of those deaths became more complicated as the war wore on. Dimitri already had a habit of holding himself responsible for the deaths of countless others and had very nearly died under the weight of those gravestones.

_If he can’t do it, I will,_ Felix decided. He was to be the Shield of Faerghus one day, as his father was before him; he had to protect Dimitri from his own demons, if it came to that. 

“If I must, then I will,” Dimitri said, his voice firm and clear. His blue eye held a look of grim determination and Felix knew he was working hard to suppress the fond memories and feelings he still held for Edelgard. “But…truly, if it were at all possible, I would prefer to reach out my hand in friendship to her and work together to build a brighter future for all.”

“That would be wonderful,” Annette sighed while Ingrid nodded vigorously in assent. “To end this war without further bloodshed…it would be a dream come true!”

“Why can we not try that?” Ashe asked suddenly. He leaned forward across the surface of the table and his green eyes sparkled eagerly. “If there is even the slightest hope that we could end this war without more fighting, we _must_ try.”

“Will she even listen?” Sylvain asked skeptically. 

“Who knows,” Dimitri shook his head. “However, I do agree—it is worth a try.”

“Perhaps we can arrange something before we reach Enbarr,” Dedue said in his deep, calm voice. He was so quiet during their meetings that his voice startled Felix when he did speak. “We should send a messenger ahead of our army with our parley terms.”

“Agreed,” Professor Byleth nodded. She glanced at the map spread across the table and moved a blue pin south of Garreg Mach. “Now that we’ve secured Faerghus and Claude has delivered allies to us by relinquishing control of the Leicester Alliance, we have a real chance to win this war.”

“We cannot afford to become overconfident,” Ingrid said, frowning at the map while Felix nodded in agreement. “Even with our increased numbers and supplies, there are many stories of battles which were lost due to poor leadership.”

“I suppose we will need to pass over the Great Bridge of Myrddin again if we are to march on Enbarr, is that right?” Ashe said, peering closely at the map and following the trail of blue pins with his eyes. 

“Yes, though I do not believe we should have any trouble this time,” Dimitri folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned back against his chair. “Even if not all of the lords in Leicester are happy with the new arrangement, I doubt they will hinder our progress. The Empire is as much a threat to them as ever, especially without our aid.”

“That’s Fort Merceus there, right?” Sylvain pointed to a red pin positioned about halfway between Gronder Field and Enbarr. “The Impregnable Fortress?”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix muttered with a sharp grin. The thought of taking a fortress known for its impeccable defences excited the warrior in his blood even as his heart worried for Annette’s safety. It was sure to be full of soldiers and it was close enough for reinforcements to arrive if they failed to secure it quickly. It was, unfortunately, a necessary risk—without taking Fort Merceus, there was no hope of taking Enbarr.

“I’ve heard many tales of Fort Merceus. They say it rivals even the strength of our own Arianrhod. If we were to take it, history would remember our names forever!” Ashe sighed dreamily, his thoughts clearly running along a similar path to Felix’s own. 

“I believe Sir Gilbert’s last report mentioned that Count Bergliez had stationed troops there previously,” Professor Byleth said, scanning her notes. “He’s probably moved more soldiers there knowing it will be our next course of action. We should be prepared for a very difficult battle.”

“Isn’t that Caspar’s father?” Annette asked, her beautiful face going pale at the thought. Felix made a mental note to ensure she stayed close to him during the battle. Should they meet any familiar faces on the battlefield—Caspar or anyone else—he would be able to defend her as he had when they faced Lorenz. “Do you suppose he will be there?”

“It’s very possible,” Sylvain replied seriously, and Ingrid nodded in agreement. They glanced at each other and Felix thought he saw something pass between their eyes. He wondered if Sylvain would try to stay near Ingrid just as he planned to do with Annette, worried for her safety and hoping to be able to protect her. “Be prepared to face anyone.”

“I know,” Annette murmured, dropping her gaze to her lap. “I am, but it doesn’t make this any easier.”

Felix wished there was something he could say to help Annette come to terms with the reality of the war they were fighting, but he could not find the words. He knew she understood that fighting meant facing old friends and that there was no real chance for both of you to walk away alive. He knew she understood the necessity of showing no quarter even though she longed to offer an escape from certain death. Seeing her trying to cope with the sorrow of it all was heartbreaking and he wished he could do something to make the pain easier to bear.

_Win this war and it will be over,_ Felix thought, catching her eyes and holding her gaze. She offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. _After the war, all that will be left is the memory. Not that that’s much easier to deal with, but it helps when you’re not killing one-time friends every day._

“We should prepare to leave within a fortnight or so,” Professor Byleth said, crossing her arms and surveying the room. “Perhaps sooner, if we can manage it. The sooner we can take Fort Merceus, the sooner we can strike at Enbarr.”

\---

As Dimitri had predicted, the march to the Great Bridge of Myrddin was much easier than the first time they had made it. The roads were no longer muddied from spring rains and there were no enemy soldiers waiting to impede their progress. Felix was not terribly bothered by memories of the men and women he had killed to survive this long, but he noticed the way Annette stiffened in her saddle as they passed the place where Lorenz had died. Though there was no body and his blood had long since been washed away, she could not forget taking his life despite the fact it hadn’t been her who struck the final blow. Felix had grown up knowing he would fight and kill; he had had many years to come to terms with it and learn ways to cope. Annette was too loving for this kind of world; he knew it broke her heart to fight and to kill someone she had known.

They were surrounded by others and Felix wasn’t one for flaunting his love for her in front of an audience, but he reached out to pat her hand gently all the same, saying nothing. Words were not always necessary and certainly not between them. Annette clutched the reins tighter and drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves. She never complained about the pain and guilt, focusing her eyes straight ahead and steeling herself for more of the same. She was stronger than she looked, and Felix had long ago loved her for it. 

Dusk was falling by the time they reached the edges of Fort Merceus. It was a truly impressive building, cold stone gleaming in the fading light of the sun. The architecture of the fort boasted a challenge to all who approached, and Felix could feel the blood in his veins pound with excitement. Beside him, Annette pulled her horse to a halt, her face paling as she gazed toward the thick walls and archers arrayed along the ramparts, bows drawn and pulled taut toward them. They were well out of range, but it was a warning, nonetheless. On his other side, Sylvain grinned tightly at Felix, mirroring his own eager anticipation for a fight.

“We will set up camp here for the night,” Professor Byleth announced, moving her horse past them. Her voice was calm and steady, revealing no hint of concern for the battle ahead. “Rest well tonight. You will need your strength for what is to come on the morrow.”

Annette flashed a smile toward him that made his heart flutter and turned her horse to join Mercedes and Ashe in preparing their evening meal, a promise in her eyes that she would see him later. He nodded in silent understanding, turning his own horse in the opposite direction after Ingrid and Sylvain. They usually set up their tents near to each other, a habit from so many years of friendship, and if Ingrid now allowed Sylvain to pitch his closer to hers and Felix tended to set his up a little further away, it was only because they wanted to be considerate of Felix’s feelings. 

The evening meal was not quite ready by the time Felix hammered the last peg into the earth and rose to consider his work. In all the time they had been on this campaign, he’d never quite gotten the hang of setting up his tent so that it wasn’t lopsided. It would keep out the rain though, and it would offer privacy from prying eyes at night, so he had given up trying to make it straight. Sylvain teased him about his inability to do something as simple as set up a tent while Ingrid sighed resignedly and shook her head with mild disbelief. 

“Felix, may I have a moment of your time?” Dimitri asked from behind him, his boots clomping softly against the grass.

“I suppose,” he replied, turning and crossing his arms. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about the battle tomorrow?”

“Not exactly.” Dimitri tightened his grip on his lance, his one eye flashing in the semi-darkness. “I feel…restless as we approach Edelgard. I need something to clear my mind.”

“I see,” Felix said, arching an eyebrow and drumming his fingers over the hilt of his own blade. “You think an evening spar will clear your head?”

“Doubtful,” Dimitri snorted, though he appeared pleased at the invitation. They walked together a few paces away from the campground and stood facing each other, weapons in hand. “But it might help, if you would oblige me.”

“I would never pass up a chance to spar,” Felix grinned, dropping into an easy stance. He waited for Dimitri to spring, knowing he was fast enough to dodge and duck under his defences. “We should be sparring more than we do.”

“You say that even during war?” Dimitri asked as he lunged forward. The movement was predictable, and Felix dodged easily. He wasn’t ready for the bigger man to spin so quickly though and barely missed taking an unexpected hit to his side. “We fight enough as it is, wouldn’t you say?”

“War is not the same as training,” Felix grunted, deflecting another attack and forcing Dimitri backwards. He raced forward with his sword pointing toward the other man, hoping to catch his thigh. “Instinct takes over in war, more often than not. It’s important to spar to keep your wits about you and hone your skills _until_ they become instinctual. That is an ongoing battle as long as we have the strength to fight.”

“You speak as if you will fight forever, even when this war is over,” Dimitri said as he brought up his arm to block another slash of Felix’s blade.

“There is never not another enemy to fight,” Felix told him, amber eyes flashing with pride. “You think that when Edelgard is dead the fighting will be done? That there will be no uprisings, no assassins, no one left to protect?”

Dimitri laughed heartily as he swung the lance in a dangerous arc. Felix spun out of the way, narrowing his eyes at the blond man. “You sound like Glenn,” Dimitri said after a moment, the mirth still evident in his expression. “Always ready to spring to action for the defence of others.”

_Glenn…_ Felix thought, momentarily distracted by the implication that he was more alike to his dead brother than he realized. Dimitri was right after all; Glenn was always ready to lend his sword for a cause. It was why he had become a knight.

It was why Felix had wanted to become a knight too, once.

Dimitri’s lance caught him on the arm, and he dropped his blade, suddenly back in the moment and realizing he’d lost the match. “I yield,” Felix said, bending to reclaim his fallen sword and returning it to its sheath. “You’re as strong as ever, I see.”

“As are you,” Dimitri said, clapping his shoulder and striding together back toward the camp. The smell of fresh stew was floating through the air. Professor Byleth waved at them from by the cookpot, holding up her own bowl and gesturing for them to join her. Dimitri waved back, the lines around his eyes softening as he gazed at her. “Come, let’s join the others. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

He spent the evening sandwiched between Dimitri and Sylvain listening to them reminisce about their far-flung childhood in Fhirdiad. Sometimes Ingrid would chime in with memories of her own or corrections to their own recollections to the general enjoyment of the others who sat nearby. If he allowed himself to relax, it began to feel like old times again, from long before the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix kept his own thoughts to himself, his mind still dwelling on the kind of knight Glenn was and the kind he had always wanted to be. 

_All these years spent trying not to be like Glenn,_ Felix thought as the fire began to burn to embers and the others started to move back to their tents, _And in the end, it seems that I’m more like him than ever._

Glenn had died so long ago now that Felix wondered what kind of man his brother would have become had he lived. How would their lives have been different if Glenn had survived the Tragedy of Duscur and his father had never spoken so callously to him? Would Dimitri have continued so far down the path of guilt and sorrow if Glenn had still been around to fulfill his duty as a knight of the royal family? Would Glenn have still been the cocky man with an easy smile after such an event, or would he have been forever changed by the experience too? Felix sighed in frustration; there were no answers to these questions and there would never _be_ any answers. Speculation did him no good; the past was the past and there was no changing it.

“Felix?” Annette’s concerned voice snapped him back into reality. He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard her approach. She crouched in front of him and although her face was shadowed, her could see her blue eyes sparkling into his. “You don’t look so well. I think that you should rest.”

She was right, as usual. He should rest, but Felix didn’t feel ready to sleep. 

“I’m fine,” he said, standing and stretching his arms above his head. Annette stood too and smoothed the front of her dress, lacing her fingers between his as he began to wander back toward his tent. She usually pitched hers beside Mercedes, but lately she had taken to spending her evenings with him quietly in the darkness instead until he had to carry her back asleep in his arms. “Just thinking. Nothing so out of the ordinary.”

“I think everyone’s feeling a bit pensive lately,” Annette murmured, tightening her fingers around his hand. “With Enbarr so close, people seem to be thinking more of the future now that it doesn’t seem so uncertain.”

Felix decided against telling her that it wasn’t the future on his mind. Ever since he’d admitted how much he loved her, he had tried very hard to focus on the present; it wasn’t in his nature to look toward the future, especially not during a war. The fact that he’d said what he did to Annette under the moonlight in Fhirdiad did not change any of his initial reservations about their relationship; there was still a possibility that he could die before this war was over. As much as she had taught him to hope, he very much did not want to think about how that possible eventuality might affect her, so he tried not to think about it at all. The past was safer; it was done and gone, and he had had time to come to terms with it. 

“I’ve been thinking of the future too, you know,” she went on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I sent a letter to my mother before we left Fhirdiad to let her know I was all right. I miss her.” Annette paused and Felix wondered if she had told her mother about him. He didn’t have anyone like that in his life, not anymore. “We’re _so_ close now. I’m sick of fighting, Felix. I want to go home.”

“I know, Annie,” he said quietly. They were in front of his little tent now, but they had no chairs on the road. He spread his jacket on the ground and flopped down on his back staring up into the starry sky. The weather was warmer now, especially as they travelled further south, but Annette’s hands were still cool to the touch as she laid beside him. Rules of propriety didn’t mean much on the warpath, so she snuggled close against him, tracing the constellations above them with one finger. “I’ll make sure you get home safely. I promise.”

“I pray every day that the Goddess will bring us all through this war safely,” Annette whispered, her finger hovering over the brightest star in the Goddess’ Staff. “We’ve come this far, after all.”

_I pray that you’re right,_ Felix thought. He turned his head and kissed the crown of her head until she dropped her arm limply to her side and turned to face him in the darkness. _I pray that we have a future to look forward to._

\---

They rose together at dawn. Annette had fallen asleep in Felix’s arms under the stars and he hadn’t had the heart to move her. She was soft and he was comfortable, and he couldn’t see the problem with spending a night together when they’d already done it once before. He wondered what it would be like to make love with her, to feel her skin beneath him and kiss her all over, to lose himself in her scent and the memory of her smile, but he tried to keep those thoughts buried when she was near. It wasn’t an appropriate time to let those feelings take over his senses, not when there was so much more at stake than the two of them. 

The thick walls of Fort Merceus were as imposing as ever in the morning light and Felix felt the rush of anticipation fill his veins. The archers were still poised on the walls, bows drawn and arrows fixed on the army arrayed before them. The banners of the Adrestian Empire flapped proudly in the morning breeze, as if daring them to approach and begin a siege not a single great general before them had managed to successfully complete. Felix glanced around but there was nowhere to hide on the flat grassland that surrounded the fort; as soon as they stepped within range, thousands of arrows would rain down upon their exposed ranks. 

“We need to get our mages into position,” Professor Byleth commanded curtly, her green eyes flashing like steel. “Get them casting our ranged spells and get those damn archers off the ramparts!”

Annette was already with the squadron of royal mages, preparing to cast whatever spells she knew at the walls ahead of them. Felix didn’t like this part of their plan because he knew the toll spellcasting could take on the body and Annette—despite being young and healthy—was always extremely drained from spellcasting after battles that didn’t involve a siege. This could only serve to weaken her further before they even managed to break through the gates, but Felix knew he couldn’t convince her not to participate. It was a point of pride for her, regardless of how much she hated to fight. She was one of their best warlocks; they would be foolish not to use her skills.

For his part, Felix felt rather useless during this phase of the battle. He wasn’t useful until they managed to enter the fortress and engage the enemy with blade against blade. Professor Byleth flatly refused to allow him to help heave the huge battering ram she had procured against the main gate, insisting that it was simply not his role to do that—there were more than enough foot soldiers they could send on that mission. 

_We can expend their lives for that,_ Felix heard clearly behind the Professor’s vague explanation that he needed to conserve his strength for the battle ahead. _We cannot afford to risk you, not for this. You’ll have your chance to fight or die once we’re inside._

Even if it was true—and it _was_ true—that didn’t make Felix’s heart rest easier knowing that Annette would still insist on accompanying them into the fortress, regardless of how tired she felt. He wouldn’t deny her that opportunity, of course; he respected her wishes and her skills as a warlock too much to stand in the way of what she wanted to do, but that didn’t mean he liked it either. He hoped she would stay near him, far enough back that she wasn’t in any immediate danger yet close enough that he could reach her side in the span of a heartbeat should the need arise. 

“Just breathe, Fe,” Sylvain counselled him with a note of exasperated vexation in his voice. Felix hadn’t moved in several hours and the sun had long since begun to reach its apex. The gate was nearly splintered into pieces and the ramparts were broken in numerous places, scorched and smoldering from the blasts of thunder and fire. “It’s almost time for us to rush in.”

“About time,” Felix muttered darkly. He brushed a stray strand of dark hair back behind his ear. It tickled his face the way Annette’s did when her hair curtained their faces when she leaned forward to kiss him. He wondered where she was now and if she was still needed to attack the ramparts. “I’m sick of waiting around like this. Let’s get it over with, eh?”

“All in due time,” Sylvain jerked his head to where the Professor and Dimitri stood together. They were rarely apart nowadays. “The gate’s done for, it’s only a matter of minutes now.”

He was right. With a resounding crash, the remains of the gate splintered away. The kingdom soldiers abandoned the battering ram and began to flood into the fort without waiting for Professor Byleth to relay her orders. Felix saw Ingrid zoom through the sky above with a squadron of falcon knights at her heels, their silver armor gleaming like stars in the daylight. Sylvain kicked his horse into action and raced after her without another word, raising one hand in farewell to Felix. He could tell by Sylvain’s straight back in the saddle and the almost casual way he took his leave that his friend had no fear for the fight ahead. _I’ll see you when this is done,_ Sylvain’s upraised hand seemed to say.

Soldiers were moving forward now that Professor Byleth had given the signal and Felix found himself swept along with them. Not knowing where Annette was made pushing his way through the rush of bodies not only irresponsible but also pointless. She would be heading into the fortress with everyone else, putting her magic to use where it was most needed to scatter the defenders.

_She’ll be easy to spot,_ Felix thought, pushing past soldiers who were far more heavily armoured. He was always fast on his feet and he couldn’t quite ignore the nervous anxiety that was slowly creeping into his chest. _Annette has a flair for the dramatic. I’ll see her spells from miles away._

The inside of Fort Merceus was much wider than Felix had expected and full of defensive equipment. Ballistae’s and magical channels were set up throughout the fortress to ward off the attackers and, as far as Felix could tell, it seemed to be working. Although they had the strength of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance to draw on for soldiers, many had not received proper training, and few had an innate resistance to magical attacks. It could take years to build up a proper resistance and Felix was one of the lucky few to have been working on that since he attended the Officer’s Academy. The plight of regular soldiers didn’t much concern him, though—that was the Professor’s concern as their commander—so he skidded to a stop and looked around for any sign of bright, orange hair.

“Ashe!” Felix shouted over the din of battle. He rushed toward the other man and spooked the horse. He didn’t see anyone else nearby. “Have you seen Annette? She’s supposed to be with me.”

“Whoa!” Ashe cried, barely holding his seat and desperately trying to bring the bucking horse back under control. “I think I saw her go that way—” Ashe said, flicking his head toward a wide corridor along the outer edge of the fortress. “—with a squadron of mages. There’s a black beast over there, I hear.”

Felix didn’t wait for Ashe to finish speaking. He ran in the direction he had indicated, cutting down whoever stood in his way. _A black beast?_ Felix thought somewhat frantically as he engaged a pair of swordmasters. He tried not let his concern for Annette’s whereabouts cloud his judgement. She knew how to handle a black beast, and as long as she wasn’t alone, she would probably be all right until he got there. _The Empire is playing with fire to keep using those things._

He could hear the beast roar as he made his way through the fortress and saw it rear high above the inner walls. There was screaming too, but people were always screaming in war. Felix couldn’t tell if the screaming was because of the creature or just due to the general chaos of the fight, but he had no time to ponder it either. The soldiers at Fort Merceus were better trained than the ones they had faced at Derdriu who—although they had not been _bad_ per se—seemed less skilled than the elite fighters here. Perhaps it was because they were closing in Enbarr or perhaps it was because the Empire had underestimated Claude’s ability to defend his territory, but regardless of the reason, there was no denying that this battle was far more invigorating and more dangerous. 

By the time he reached the open square where the black beast bellowed, Felix had already lost his two best daggers in a scuffle that had cost him more time than he wanted to think about. He’d taken a minor wound to his side which luckily wasn’t deep enough to cause him any real pain although the real problem was that those wounds could add up quickly and sap his strength before he even realized it was happening. It didn’t matter yet though and nor could he afford to waste time thinking about it, not when he had a mission to take this fortress and to find Annette before she found herself in more danger. With a grunt of determination, Felix pushed those worries aside as he drank in the scene ahead of him. 

Dead soldiers lay strewn across the flagstones, a mix of both sides in blue and red and covered in blood. The monster was wounded too. Strips of scaly flesh hung from its body leaking dark blood in huge globs onto the ground. It was a disgusting sight and the odor of the dead mingling with the stench of the beast was enough to make even Felix’s stomach churn uncomfortably. 

“Annette!” Felix barked from across the square. He hoped his voice was loud enough to be heard over the screams of the wounded monster. “Get back! You’re in too deep.”

She must have heard him because Annette turned her head very quickly to glance at him, her arms outstretched as she called the wind to her aid. Her orange hair floated around her head like a wispy cloud and her dress was torn in multiple places. He wondered if she’d done that herself so that she could move faster or if she’d been caught in a close-quarters fight. She stayed where she was, her blue eyes narrowed in concentration as her spell grew in strength. Felix didn’t waste time shouting at her again. She would move when she could, and she knew the way her spells worked best.

Felix hurled himself headlong at the beast with his sword outstretched to bite deeply into its legs. It was already weak from the other battalions that had been battering away at it before his arrival and so his blade struck true, sliding in between the scales easily and carving away another hunk of flesh. It roared with pain, flailing its clawed hands wildly. One sharp claw cut deeply into Felix’s arm when he lifted it to shield his face from the blows. He cried out in pain as the thing gouged deeply into his own skin, leaving three deep, jagged cuts bleeding heavily. Felix’s arm felt like it was on fire as pain flared throughout it and he dropped it uselessly at his side with a prayer to every deity he’d ever heard of that he wouldn’t need it again in this fight.

Felix felt unsteady on his feet with his limp arm at his side and his sword strokes lacked their usual force without his proper balance in each form. Other soldiers were reinforcing their position now and the fresh assault overwhelmed the last of the creature’s strength in a matter of minutes. It wavered and fell with a devastating _crash_ to the ground, shaking the entirety of Fort Merceus with its dying breath. He stumbled awkwardly backwards and landed unceremoniously on his back. Footsteps echoed around him as two men helped pull him back upright just as Annette hurried over to him looking very much like a pale ghost. 

“Your arm,” she said breathlessly. She yanked it closer to her face to better inspect the damage and Felix yelped irritably. Her touch was a soft as ever over his wound and her white magic felt warm and comforting as it snaked around his arm. Her healing had drastically improved over the years and as much as he was grateful for it, Felix knew she didn’t have the strength to spare healing every injury he’d sustained.

“Don’t waste your energy,” he mumbled quickly and pulling his arm out of her grasp as soon as it felt strong enough to move without undue pain. “It will heal on its own the rest of the way.”

“But it might—” 

“I have scars all over my body Annie, you know that,” Felix snapped. He hefted his sword and tested his balance while she stood silently glaring at him. “What’s one more? As it is, I’ll gain others before this is all over.”

“Don’t strain it,” Annette finally replied in a stony voice. She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and her blue eyes were thunderous. “Come on, we need to take down that tower there!”

She sprinted past him without waiting for a response. Cursing Annette’s stubborn refusal to act like the backline warlock she was, Felix ran after her. 

They met some resistance on their way and Annette at least had the sense to fall back and allow Felix to race past her and slam his blade into the knights blocking the way forward. They were heavily armoured but too slow to react to the flurry of blows he dealt to them, his sword slipping into the cracks in their armour and waiting for Annette’s magic to do the rest. She didn’t disappoint; blades of wind as sharp as knives assaulted their armour which was not made to resist magic of her calibre. It broke away easily and Felix saw his opportunity to slide his blade deep into their bodies, heaving them roughly aside one by one. Together, they made their way around the corner and up a wide set of stairs to the top of the tower Annette had indicated.

It wasn’t exactly a tower in the usual sense of the word. It was slightly raised above the surrounding area of the fortress and the hulking corpse of the black beast was visible over the wall if you went close enough to look. From a defender’s perspective, it was a perfect place to observe the battle below, relay orders, and direct reinforcements. Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t easily accessible by attackers and the captains manning it would have been relatively safe from danger.

_We aren’t a normal army,_ Felix thought grimly. He stepped slightly ahead of Annette and narrowed his amber eyes at the two men standing before them. _With Professor Byleth’s direction, we’ve accomplished far more than anyone ever thought possible._

“Whoa, look who we have here! Long time no see Annette, Felix,” Caspar grinned at them. It felt strange to be greeted so cordially in the middle of an active battleground, but Felix supposed stranger things had happened. “You guys been keeping well?”

“Well enough,” Felix muttered darkly. “Until now, anyway.”

Caspar nodded sagely as if in complete agreeance with this assessment of the situation. “Yeah, it really sucks that things happened like this, right?” he said, hefting his huge, silver axe in his hands. “I’d rather not have to kill you, but I guess that’s just how war is.”

“I’d rather not fight at all,” his companion said, sounding as annoyed as ever at this inconvenience. Linhardt sighed. “Trying to avoid it is pointless though. It’ll just cause more headaches in the end.”

“If you don’t want to fight, then don’t!” Annette said, her voice rather high. “We…we don’t want to fight you either.”

_Don’t think about Lorenz,_ Felix thought as a cold dread filled the pit of his stomach. He tightened his grip on his sword. _They are here, they chose this path. It’s too late for them to walk away. It’s too late for us to walk away._

“It isn’t that simple,” Linhardt echoed Felix’s thoughts. Although his voice was calm and steady, his eyes were grimly determined. “As much as I lack any desire to fight, I am here now, and I am ready.”

Annette was silent in the wake of these words, her eyes wide and her face pale in the bright afternoon light. He knew her so well now; she was thinking of how they cut Lorenz down and probably already envisioning these two lying dead on the ground at her feet. Felix knew that her biggest weakness in war was that she cared too much, loved too strongly, and hated to cause anyone pain. Taking a life took so much more of a toll on Annette than it did on him. He’d grown up intending to fight and kill, mentally preparing himself even as a child for the inevitable feeling of his blade sliding into the flesh of an opponent. He’d taken his first life before even setting foot in Garreg Mach. It hadn’t been as difficult then as he’d expected and, in many ways, it had only become easier over the years. Felix took no pleasure in killing, but he was used to it. 

_Why did it have to be them?_ Felix asked the Goddess, trying to block Annette with his body, hoping uselessly that she would allow him to deal with this for her and keep her from sullying her hands with their deaths. She didn’t need to carry this burden too, not with the weight of Lorenz’s memory still heavy on her heart. He didn’t want to watch the light die in her eyes as their bodies fell at her feet, bringing with them a flood of memory that she could never quite escape. He didn’t want to believe their deaths would hurt her even if she didn’t raise a hand to fight them. _Why did we have to find people we knew here? Wasn’t Lorenz enough?_

“It isn’t personal, Annette,” Caspar said, his cocky grin fading slightly. There was a shadow of regret in his eyes, yet he still held the axe tightly in his hands. “We’re on opposite sides, yeah?”

“I know,” she whispered. There was no fear in her face, only unrestrained sorrow that the path she was travelling had led her to this moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt either of you. I wish we could settle this with words rather than weapons.”

“The opportunity for that was taken away from us all more than five years ago,” Linhardt said bitterly. 

“I think the time for chatting is over,” Felix’s voice cut across the conversation like the snap of whip. He _needed_ to put an end to this before it went any further; the sooner they cut down the two men in their way, the sooner this battle would end, and he could whisk Annette away somewhere quiet so that she could come to terms with the outcome before having to face the world again. 

Caspar laughed. His voice boomed eerily across the tower, sending a shiver down Felix’s spine. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Well…it’s been nice seeing you guys again. But now, it’s time to end this. I’m going to give this fight everything I’ve got!”

Felix was ready for Caspar’s attack the moment he began to move. He could remember sparring with Caspar from time to time during their Academy days. The other man’s moves were generally predictable, and he relied almost purely on the force behind each blow he struck to knock his opponent off balance before going in for the final strike. Felix opted to dodge sideways, bringing his sword up in a backslash that caught Caspar’s bracer. The other man shoved him away roughly, forcing Felix back several paces to regain his balance. 

The wind was picking up around them as Annette tried desperately to cut through Caspar’s armour the way she had done against Lorenz. It seemed that Linhardt had much the same idea; Felix could feel sharp blades of wind cutting his face and tearing at his clothes, seeking the vulnerable flesh beneath. Although his own armour was strong and imbued with some small amount of magical resistance, a prolonged fight would only serve to put them both in more danger. His muscles were already sore from the months spent following Dimitri and Professor Byleth on the warpath, and as hard as he tried to forget about his never-ending exhaustion, he could feel it acutely now as he fought Caspar. 

He landed a flurry of blows against the other man as he raised an arm to shield his face from the worst of Annette’s magical onslaught. Caspar yowled with pain and pitched forward to one knee, keeping himself upright only by clinging to his axe. He panted harshly, his blue eyes burning with a fierce pride in the face of Felix’s upraised sword. 

“Caspar!” Linhardt cried from the other side of the tower. His green hair flapped wildly in the wind, falling limply around his face as he let the spell fade. Felix could see worry clearly reflected in Linhardt’s eyes. “Just hold on!”

_White magic!_ Felix realized with a sudden rush of fear. Caspar was struggling back to his feet and a warm, white light was curling around Linhardt’s hands. Annette had never been able to master the concept of healing from a distance. She was skilled, but her greatest talents (outside of her music) was with her devastating anima magic. _We can’t afford to let Linhardt heal him!_

Linhardt was well outside of Annette’s range and his resistance to her attacks was probably too high for her to be of much use against him anyway. Caspar had fallen to one knee again, the blood still dripping steadily from his thigh. Silently cursing his lost daggers, Felix knew that there was no time to consider the best course of action; he needed to act and _fast._ In the best of cases, he would have preferred to go after Linhardt in the initial attack, but Caspar had moved first and engaged him. Felix didn’t know if that was because Caspar felt he was a bigger threat or if it was because of some lingering affection for his one-time friend in Annette that he chose not to move against her first, but it could be considered a mistake. She was the easier target, after all.

She had Felix for protection, though, so perhaps that counted for something. 

_I have to get him before he casts that spell,_ Felix decided, already moving toward Linhardt with his sword raised. _Then it will be easy to end this and get Annette away from here._

“Felix!” Annette screamed from somewhere behind him. There was real terror in her voice, but he had no time to turn and look at her, no time to understand the reason for her fear. She had him, after all. She should not have to fear, not with him by her side. “ _Felix!_ ”

A mistake, as it were.

“ _Caspar!_ ” Linhardt cried, splaying his fingers wide and releasing the white magic. He was watching Felix run toward the place where he stood rooted to the spot, unable to move before the spell was complete. Death was abroad in this place, waiting to claim one or all of them. He could see death in Linhardt’s eyes.

“It’s over,” Felix grunted, thrusting the bloody sword toward Linhardt. He moved with only moments to spare before the blade skewered him, the spell complete and Caspar whole again. Felix’s blade caught his arm, cutting away the long sleeve of his green robe and leaving a horribly deep gash in the pale flesh beneath. 

Linhardt screamed as the blade cut into him, and he clutched his wound tightly with his other hand as he fell. His eyes were blazing with defiance. 

“No, it isn’t,” Linhardt snapped more venomously than his otherwise aloof disposition would have suggested he was capable. He raised his bloody hand and held it out toward Felix. Tendrils of white and black magic curled around his fingers like twin snakes. “I told you before, pay attention or you might end up dead.”

Felix could feel his own strength begin to ebb from his body and a wave of nausea hit him hard. He swayed unsteadily on his feet and dropped his sword to the ground. It rang out with an echoing _clang_ that made his head feel suddenly worse. The wound on Linhardt’s other, arm was beginning to heal and he was starting to stand up now, and everything had somehow gone horribly and irreversibly wrong. 

_No,_ Felix thought, falling to his knees and squinting hard at Linhardt. _Not this. We can’t die here. I want to see the future with her._

“Get away from him!” Annette’s voice rang out with a passionate fury that seemed to cut through the tension on the tower. Felix turned his head as he always did, summoned by the sound of her voice even when their lives were in peril. He saw her running toward him with a long, silver knife in one hand. He wasn’t used to seeing her with a knife in hand and had he not been feeling his life ebbing away, he might have wondered where she’d hidden it. 

She threw the knife before she reached them.

It arced through the air, sparkling in the sunlight as it spun and caught Linhardt squarely in the chest. The magic sapping Felix’s strength abruptly disappeared, and he fell in an ungainly heap to the ground with surprise. 

“Oh,” Linhardt said in a strangely calm voice. He stared at the knife protruding from his chest and the blood staining the front of his robes. “So this is what dying feels like…”

“I’m sorry,” Annette said with tears in her eyes. “But I can’t let you hurt Felix.”

“ _Linhardt!_ ” Caspar shouted, his voice shrill and full of pain. He was running toward them, feet pounding against the stone and his axe raised to kill. “You’re not going to die! I’ll save you, I swear! We promised we’d get through together, alive and well!”

“I can’t,” Linhardt murmured. His voice was still oddly calm. “I’m sorry, Caspar. I wish…that one day there will be no more need to fight and we can just…nap the afternoon away.”

His body slumped to the ground and Caspar roared liked a wounded beast. Felix watched him spring forward with renewed speed, holding his axe to strike and he knew what was about to happen. His mind went curiously blank as he reached blindly for the hilt of his fallen sword, knowing that he was already too slow, that there was no way to stop the oncoming disaster that was Caspar’s vengeance for a man he had loved and respected. 

“ _Annette!_ ” Felix cried, desperately praying that his words would be enough to get her to move out of the way, to allow him to take the force of Caspar’s blow. He was scrambling to his feet, but it was already far, far too late. “ _Annette, move!_ ”

She didn’t move. 

“Get back!” she shouted at Caspar, throwing her arms out to either side and standing directly in his way. A force of wind like nothing Felix had ever witnessed her summon before enveloped Annette in its embrace, whipping her orange hair around her face like a candle flame burning too brightly and too quickly. He’d heard of this spell before, a gale of such extreme power that few warlocks ever managed to master it. 

The tornado slowed Caspar, but it did not stop him. He persevered through the gale despite how it cut his face and tore at his armour, grim determination his only companion on this final journey. He roared wordlessly and leapt through the air as Annette’s magic finally began to fade as her strength began to dissipate. It is the fatal weakness of magic that it is only sustainable for as long as the warlock can channel their own strength into maintaining the spell. She had already used so much of her strength sieging the ramparts. She didn’t have the strength to hold off Caspar for good.

Felix was too slow. He hated himself for it.

The axe caught her awkwardly across the chest. It screeched against the armor beneath her dress and cut through it with relative ease. Her blood flowed freely down her dress as she fell with a dull _thud_ to the ground, crying out with true pain. Felix felt his heart break at the sight of her broken body at his feet now that he had finally—too slowly—managed to regain his footing. She was dying because he’d made a mistake in choosing his target. She was dying because she’d made the mistake of trusting him with her life when he had only ever been any good at taking life. 

Felix was aware that he was shouting wordlessly too, had no idea what he was even saying. He dropped his sword again in favour of raising his hand and drawing on all his sorrow and heartbreak, channelling all his pain into a thunder spell of such immense power that Caspar had no chance of survival. A horrible _crack_ rent the air and lightning flashed dangerously around them despite the bright sunlight. He fell to the ground not far from Linhardt, one hand reaching for his friend even in death. 

“Annette,” Felix fell to her side, gingerly cradling her head in his lap. He felt tears dripping down his cheeks. “Stay with me, please. We’ll get you to Mercedes, she’ll fix you right up. I promise.”

“Are you all right, Fe…?” she murmured, her voice almost too soft to be heard. 

“Shh,” he whispered urgently, fumbling at his side for a bottle of healing concoction. He hadn’t used it much, not with Annette always nearby to heal his wounds, but he kept it anyway. Uncorking the bottle with a _pop,_ Felix gently peeled away the remains of her torn dress to assess the damage and do what he could to mitigate it. He had never learned how to heal. It seemed like an immensely foolish oversight now.

The armour beneath her clothing had been strong enough to stop the axe from cutting her clean through but it had still bit deeply into her pale skin, leaving a long, angry gouge running from her shoulder to just beneath her ribs. He took the ointment and spread it as gently as he could over the wound, hoping it would act quickly to staunch the flow of blood. It was a longshot, but he had to try. He didn’t want to think about what he would do if he lost Annette here in this place after such a short time of blissful love. 

“It’s all right.” Annette croaked. She smiled and it was full of gentle love even as she lay dying in his arms. “I’m happy that you’re safe. That I could do something to protect you, even just once.”

“Don’t talk,” Felix begged her. He fumbled for another flask hanging from his belt. He had never used an elixir himself—they were both expensive and highly addictive due to the infusion of magic that was supposed to increase the potency. He kept it only for emergencies. “Drink this, please, Annie.”

He tipped the flask into her mouth, trying to keep his hand steady even as his vision blurred with tears. 

The sun shone brightly down on them and Annette’s hair glowed like fire. It seemed cruel for the day to be so beautiful when the light in her eyes was fading and her heart was struggling to beat in her chest. It had been sunny when Glenn died, too. Felix wondered if the Goddess was mocking him for his hubris in hoping that there was a future waiting for them. He had never been very pious, not like his father had been. 

“Enough,” Annette whispered. She raised a bloody hand and caressed his cheek, her fingers leaving streaking bloody marks along his skin. “I’m sorry, Felix. You were right all along. We aren’t all…making it through this alive.” 

“No,” he said fiercely. “I won’t let you die.”

Felix was not a knight and he had no horse to carry her away on, so he did the only thing he could think of that would give her any hope of survival. He stood and waved his arms frantically up toward the sky, praying to every deity he could name and some that he couldn’t that even one of the falcon knights circling above would see him and fly down to their aid. He scanned the sky for the telltale posture that was uniquely Ingrid’s when she sat in the saddle and the way she held her lance just the way Glenn had done years ago. He could see her whirling high above as she always did, fighting for control of the skies amongst so many others. He hoped she would hear him screaming, hoped that she would notice something amiss below. He hoped that somehow, she would feel a wrongness in the air, her blood singing in her ears that her one-time brother needed her help.

“Ingrid!” Felix yelled into the sun, over and over again. “ _Ingrid!_ ”

It felt like an eternity before anyone noticed his summons.

“Felix?” Ingrid called, steering her pegasus in a downward trajectory with another of her airborne comrades by her side. They were both injured, though nothing nearly so bad as Annette. Ingrid gasped in shock as she landed heavily nearby, her face going as white as her steed. “What happened?”

“Ing, you’ve got to take her to Mercedes,” Felix said with a note of hysteria. He ignored the questions; there would be time for answers later. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more desperate for her help. Losing his father had been difficult, there was no downplaying that, but it was easier than losing Annette; Lord Rodrigue was a soldier and had always known the risks of his role. Annette hated fighting; she never ought to have been in this position at all. “Please, fly her as fast as you can. Please, don’t let her die.”

Ingrid spent a split-second in open-mouthed disbelief at the sight before her before she snapped back to herself. Wasting no more time, she scooped Annette up into her arms as though she weighed nothing and mounted back up on her pegasus. Felix couldn’t tell if she was still breathing and he dared not ask for fear of what Ingrid might say. 

_Mercedes will save her,_ Felix told himself and hoping against hope that it was true. _She can do anything. She can save her._

Love hadn’t saved Glenn or his father. He hadn’t believed love had such power.

He loved Annette and he prayed now that it was enough to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to admit that I had everything formatted and ready to post, and then I hit refresh on my browser and lost _everything._ Ugh! I really hope I never make that mistake again u_u
> 
> I've had this chapter planned from the very start of this fic, so it's been a long time coming. We still have a lot of loose ends to tie up though, so there's still a little ways to go before we reach the end :) In my hype for Xenoblade DE this past week, I listened to the original soundtrack on repeat to write these ending scenes. Especially _Tragic Decision_ because sad music fits the mood!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this one! Thank you so much for reading and your lovely comments <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	34. A Tunnel With No Light

_It is dark where she lays._

_There is cold wind whooshing past her and whipping against her face, but she is not moving. She is not even certain that there is any wind in this dark place, but she feels it all the same. Her mind is a curious jumble of thoughts and memories, none of which make much sense in her dazed state. She is not sure how she came to be here, or where ‘here’ even is. She cannot remember where she was before she came here._

_She realizes that the ground—is it ground?—beneath her is hard and stiff and dreadfully uncomfortable. Slowly, achingly, she forces her legs to move so that she can stand and stretch her back. There is a pain in her chest that burns like fire. She isn’t sure what caused it and she isn’t sure that she wants to try and pick through the memories floating through her mind to know, so she doesn’t. It is an easy choice._

_Her body feels strangely light in this place so when she moves, she feels like she is being carried away not of her own accord. She looks around for any sign of life in this place and realizes that she is very much alone. Part of her remembers the feeling of being alone, of having no one to whom she could turn and existing in a constant state of solitude. It is a memory that comes back too easily amongst the tangled mess of other memories that she isn’t yet ready to face._

_“Alone,” she says, testing her voice to see if she can speak in this strange, dark place. She can hear the words echo and she is not sure if that is merely within the confines of her own head or not. She supposes that it doesn’t matter because there is no one around to answer her anyway._

_She stands as still as a statue in the darkness, but she does not know how long she does that. She is not sure if time is passing or if time even exists._

_Perhaps an eon passes before she notices that there is a light in the distance._

_She wonders if she should walk toward it._

\---

Felix had never ridden on a pegasus before and he was not eager to repeat the experience. It was a special exception that he leapt unhesitatingly onto the creature’s back and looped his arms around the rider to secure himself in place. She smiled shyly at him and advised him to hold on tightly as they kicked off from the ground in Ingrid’s wake, her violet hair streaming freely behind her into Felix’s face. He would have been bothered by it if not for Annette’s life hanging in the balance of this ride. He didn’t have the energy to care about anything else.

He could see her cradled in Ingrid’s arms like a limp doll, orange hair hanging loose over Ingrid’s arm. Although only a few fleeting minutes had passed, and they were zooming through the sky at speeds faster than anything Felix had ever experienced on horseback, he was excruciatingly aware that Annette lingered on death’s doorstep, that every moment mattered because she might still die the same way Glenn and his father had died. He’d already lost two people he loved; their losses were wounds that would never quite heal and pain that would never quite fade. Losing Annette would be equally as hard, filled with the same kind of regret that he’d felt watching his father die in his arms, that he had waited too long to love.

The pegasus landed hard against the stone and Felix felt his whole body jolt from the force of it. The rider seemed unfazed by the landing. She pulled on the reins with a practiced hand and leaned forward to ruffle the creature’s long mane appreciatively. “Go,” she said over her shoulder to Felix. “Hurry!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Leaping off the pegasus’ back with an agility that was born entirely from adrenaline, ignoring the pain in his bones and the focusing his attention on the scene ahead, Felix raced toward the room ahead where the door stood open. He tried not to notice the droplets of blood that stained the ground leading inside, praying that they had arrived in time, that Mercedes was here and that she could make a miracle happen. There was no one else he would have trusted in that moment with Annette’s life. She _had_ to be here.

The room was not very large, housing perhaps twelve beds in total, most of which were already occupied with soldiers whose wounds were equally as grave as Annette’s own. It had probably once been used as a barracks for a small squadron of soldiers. They were probably dead by now. 

To Felix’s horror, Mercedes was nowhere to be seen. Annette lay on a bed at the end of a row closest to the door, her eyes closed and her expression as peaceful as if she were merely sleeping. Two healers from the Kingdom army hovered over her with their hands spread out over her chest and channeling a bright, white light. His skin prickled as the sensation of strong magic filled the room; between that and his own poorly controlled anxiety, Felix was distantly surprised that he was still standing upright. Neither of the healers acknowledged his presence, and nor did he wish them to do so—Annette _needed_ them. 

He needed her. 

“In here, hurry!” Ingrid’s frantic voice drifted into the room from outside. “Please, Annie needs you Mercedes. Please!”

Felix hadn’t even realized Ingrid wasn’t there until he heard her speaking and saw her herding Mercedes into the room. She must have dropped Annette in the care of two healers she’d found first and then gone to find Mercedes; it was a much better plan than Felix’s initial instinct to carry her in his arms until he found wherever Mercedes happened to be. Any healing was better than none and deferring it until he found Mercedes—who could have been anywhere at all in or around the massive Fort Merceus—would surely have spelled her demise. He wasn’t thinking properly, but how do you maintain calm logic in the face of a loss that threatened to shatter the world you knew for a third time?

“Annie!” Mercedes whispered, clapping her hand over her mouth as her gaze alighted on the bed. The colour drained from her face. 

“Please,” Felix begged her, his voice rough and broken. He had sounded like this as his father died too. It was familiar and he hated it. “Please, Mercedes, save her. Please!”

Mercedes stared at Annette’s still form for a second longer before sinking to her knees beside the bed and channelling her own magic into the spell the others were weaving. She didn’t waste any breath responding to Felix as he hovered anxiously over her shoulder, eyes fixed on Annette’s ashen face. He couldn’t tell if the magic was working or not and he dared not distract Mercedes from her work despite how he longed to ask her, to know that Annette would be all right. She _would_ be all right. She _had_ to be all right.

“Felix.” Ingrid shook him gently, and her own voice was unsteady in his ear. He was still rooted to the spot. “You need to see a healer too. Come on, there’s nothing you can do here right now.”

“No,” he said, his cracked lips barely moving. “I’m staying here.”

“Felix, you need to come with me,” Ingrid pleased, tightening her grip in his arms. “You’re bleeding all over the floor and you can’t do anything to help. If anyone can do anything, it’s Mercedes.”

“I…” he began, watching Annette’s fingers twitch slightly by her side. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not, but he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be away from her if Mercedes wasn’t able to save her and make everything _right_ again. It was his fault she was dying, after all; the least he could do was stay by her side.

Ingrid sighed and let go of her clawing grip on his arm. “Very well,” she said stiffly. “Just stay here for now. But we must go soon.”

_As if I’d go anywhere else!_ Felix thought irritably. He didn’t turn to look at Ingrid’s disapproving frown. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Annette’s too-still body. His hands balled into thick, useless fists at his side and the regret of never having bothered to learn even the most basic fundamentals of healing washed over him again. _If only I’d taken the Professor’s tutelage more seriously! I can use anima magic—surely I could have learned to heal as well!_

It is impossible to live without regrets. Felix understood this and had been coming to terms with it ever since Glenn had been ripped away from this life, forced into a lacquered coffin much too early and buried with the old Fraldarius dead too soon. He had regretted the last words he yelled after Glenn’s retreating back all those years ago because they had been the cruel, thoughtless words of child who believed his brother would be coming home. With all the confidence of a boy who fought with his brother because he wanted to _be_ like his older brother, Felix had spoken words that could never be unsaid, never forgiven. It was a heavy burden to bear for a child-turned-young-man.

Felix knew that he would carry the regrets of words left unspoken with his father to his grave. A younger, brasher Felix would have laid the blame squarely on his father’s drooping shoulders, righteously sure of his own innocence. It was too little, too late to repair a relationship that ought never to have been left to rot for as long as it had. He was old enough now to recognize his own role in that. 

He didn’t want to think of the regrets he would have if Mercedes couldn’t save Annette.

The floor creaked and Ingrid stepped closer to where Felix stood motionless. She spared one glance at the bed where Annette lay and grimaced at the jagged, open wound on her chest still bleeding gently. Ingrid’s face darkened at the sight of her pale face, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned to Felix and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It felt confident and strong. It was everything Felix _wasn’t_ right now.

“Come,” she murmured softly, gently trying to steer Felix toward the door. “You need a healer and some food. Let Mercedes do what she can for now.”

“I already told you that I’m not going anywhere,” Felix muttered, shrugging out of Ingrid’s grasp and moving closer to the bed. “I’ll wait until we…until we know.”

“That could be hours from now,” Ingrid said reasonably. She wrapped her fingers around his arm. “We can come back. I am certain she will be all right, Felix. You don’t want to make her worry about _you,_ right?”

He didn’t, of course, but leaving her side at a time like this felt like a betrayal in its own right. 

“Come on, let’s get you looked at before you keel over from blood loss too.” Ingrid tightened her grip on his arm and tried to pull him away again.

“I can’t leave her,” Felix insisted somewhat hysterically. He could feel tears filling his eyes again and he didn’t seem to have the strength to stop them. He hated crying, but he hated seeing Annette like this even more. “I _can’t._ ”

“Felix,” Mercedes snapped from her place beside the bed, not turning to face him. They were the first words she had spoken to him since arriving and her voice cracked as she did. “I…I can’t help Annie with you hovering like this.” She paused and sniffed audibly. Her shoulders were shaking but she held her hands steadily over Annette’s body nonetheless. “Go!”

Felix felt as though he had been slapped. Meekly, he stood for a moment longer at the foot of Annette’s bed before allowing Ingrid to lead him out into the light.

\---

_She moves through the darkness toward the light without really knowing why._

_She feels something warm encroaching on the pain in her chest. It feels comforting and seems to calm her mind enough to begin to make sense of the tangled memories flittering through her head. She doesn’t understand them yet because they are still a jumble of colours and sounds and feelings that she cannot even name, but they seem familiar. She doesn’t feel ready to try and understand them yet, but she thinks that that is all right. It isn’t so lonely to walk with memories even if you don’t know what they are._

_But she is so tired, and she has been walking for so long in this darkness that she isn’t sure that she has the strength to continue. Surely a little rest will not hurt, a moment to sit and regain her strength, and then, perhaps, she will continue toward the far-distant light. It seems a very long way still to go._

_“You must not sit for too long,” a voice says, calm and measured. She knows this voice, has heard it before in a room full of light and life. She cannot remember the man’s name. “You need to keep moving before you slip away.”_

_It isn’t slippery here. She doesn’t know what he means by this._

_“Stand up,” the man says now, moving in front of her and offering a pale hand. His voice is quietly authoritative, and she feels that she doesn’t want to disappoint him. She accepts his hand and straightens. “You must keep moving.”_

_“Where am I going?” she asks quietly. She doesn’t pull her hand out his grip. It is strong and sure. More than that, it is familiar._

_“Home,” he replied, smiling. “Please, don’t leave him like this. He’s waiting for you.”_

_“Who is waiting?” she asks into the darkness._

_The man she knew is gone now and does not respond. She can feel the warmth in her chest beginning to spread outward into her other limbs now, and she feels stronger than before. She is no closer to an answer, but she has been asked to continue onward so she does. The light is still far, but mayhap it will soon be closer._

\---

The healers took their time to examine Felix’s wounds before finally releasing him into the fading twilight with stern warnings not to do anything terribly physical for the next several days. He didn’t need the warning, but he didn’t tell them that. Felix didn’t have any intention of training while Annette lay on the verge of death in a small, dark room because he had made a mistake that might have cost her life. He’d gone straight back to the barracks-turned-infirmary where Annette was still being treated for her injuries only to be turned away at the door. It felt like a century had passed since that afternoon when he had failed in his own self-imposed duty to protect her. 

_I’m not even a knight,_ Felix thought miserably. He leaned against the wall of the barracks room and closed his eyes. He couldn’t hear anything through the thick stone separating them, but Mercedes hadn’t left the room in hours, so he cautiously hoped that was a good sign. _I’ve never sought to protect anyone before. I can’t lose her now._

He was truly exhausted, but there was no help for it. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not yet. So he waited like a statue outside the room, waiting restlessly for any word on Annette’s condition and not quite praying to the Goddess that she was going to survive. Felix couldn’t help but remember the moments they spent together in a garden in far-off Fhirdiad under the bright moon. He could remember the joy in her smile and the breathless sound of her voice after he kissed her. His heart constricted in his chest as the memories floated through his mind. It was far too soon to lose her.

_I have enough hope for both of us!_

“She really does,” Felix muttered into his knees. He could hear footsteps approaching but he didn’t lift his head. “She always hoped for things to be better than they were.”

“Felix.” The boots came to a stop a few paces ahead of where he sat. 

“Dimitri.” He didn’t bother raising his head. He knew the sound of those footsteps as well as his own. They were family, as it happened. “Is the battle over already? Don’t you have some sort of kingly matters to handle right now?”

“It has been over for a few hours now. May I sit with you?”

“Whatever,” Felix muttered dejectedly. “I warn you, I’m not particularly good company at the moment.”

“I can’t imagine that I was much better not so long ago myself,” Dimitri said wryly as he settled down against the wall beside Felix. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not _‘all right’,_ ” Felix snapped. He lifted his head to regard Dimitri sharply out of the corner of his eye. “Annette might die because I _fucked up._ ”

“She might,” Dimitri agreed calmly, apparently unfazed by the venom in Felix’s voice. “But dear Mercedes is doing all she can to saved her. Even Professor Byleth is here to use her own talents with white magic to help. Surely you trust them with Annette’s life?”

“Of course I do,” Felix retorted. “It’s _me_ that I don’t trust. She would never have been in that position if—”

“Now is not the time for self-blame,” Dimitri interrupted sharply. “Annette has continually chosen to accompany us into battle. She knows the risks of it. Besides,” he added more gently, “do you not suppose she would be upset to hear you taking the blame for what happens in war?”

The words stung. Felix straightened his back against the wall and turned his face toward Dimitri, amber eyes narrowed with a smoldering self-disgust that he could not quite mask. “It _shouldn’t_ have happened to her,” he replied savagely. “I’m taking the blame for my own inability to protect her. It’s not the same.”

“No matter how hard you try, someone you love will always be hurt. In war, someone will always be lost,” Dimitri said, a slight edge in his voice now. “But you cannot bear the burden for Annette’s choices. You cannot mean to say that you put her where she was when this happened, that she had no agency in what happened.”

_I’m happy that you’re safe. That I could do something to protect you, even just once._

Annette’s words. As Dimitri spoke, they drifted back to him like the last rays of sun before rainclouds obscured the sky. If he closed his eyes, Felix could see the moment she began to run, shining knife in hand, the moment where everything went wrong. He couldn’t have stopped her from what she was about to do, not while he was in the thrall of Linhardt’s magic and too far from her side. The sound of her voice raised not in song but in the piercing cry of pain haunted his ears even at he sat here with the birds trilling in the distance while night continued to fall around them. Part of Felix wanted to lose himself in the darkness, forcing the memory of Annette’s broken body away and burying the memory of her screams so that he could not hear them again, nor feel them lancing through his heart like a dagger.

“She shouldn’t have had to make that choice,” Felix said, his voice low. “It was my own foolish mistakes that put her in that position. It’s _my fault._ ”

“Careful,” the other man murmured. He glanced sidelong at him with his good eye. “If you insist on taking this burden of guilt, you will end up as I did. A lost beast with no sense of humanity.”

_A beast…_

Felix was not a beast. He had witnessed Dimitri’s descent into madness after the Tragedy of Duscur with a sense of disgust and aloof pride that _he_ was not so weak as to fall into the same trap. For years, he had held himself above the boar prince, convinced that he was immune to such madness, that watching every person he loved in the world die would only cause him to become stronger and fight better. Dimitri was weak to allow his emotions to get the better of him, after all. Felix had vowed that he would never allow that to happen. 

“I’m not like you,” he said into the silence between them.

“All the better,” Dimitri agreed. He slid an arm over Felix’s shoulders. “If you were like me, who would be like you when we _both_ lose ourselves in madness?”

“Sylvain, I suppose,” Felix quipped, feeling his mouth quirk slightly. 

“Goddess help us,” Dimitri chuckled. “Really, Felix, I meant what I said. There is nothing wrong with feeling sorrow or guilt that Annette was so gravely injured, but you cannot lose yourself in it. She needs you whole. _I_ need you whole.”

“You speak with certainty that Annette’s going to wake up from this.”

“I am hopeful that she will,” Dimitri said with a nod. “She has the best healer we have to offer tending to her wounds. I have never seen Mercedes fail where she had a chance to succeed.”

Dimitri was not wrong there, but Felix had rarely seen anyone survive a wound so grave as that. Even with the skill Mercedes possessed, it was a longshot. “I hope that you’re right,” he said instead, attempting to channel the unceasing hope to which Annette always clung. “I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I know. I don’t want to either.”

They were more alike than Felix usually wanted to acknowledge. In many ways, Dimitri was perhaps the only person who could comprehend the pain he was in knowing that Annette was dying and that he had been incapable of preventing it. They had shared so many losses since the Tragedy of Duscur and had dealt with those losses in their own ways as one retreated into madness and the other into cold isolation. Perhaps, in the end, neither of those paths had been the right one, yet they had emerged from both of them in one piece by grasping the outstretched hand of a woman who had never given up hope in them. Felix did not want to think about what kind of man he would be if Annette was not there to guide him back into the light, away from the demons and ghosts that followed in his shadow all his life.

They sat for hours against the stone wall in silence, Dimitri’s arm still wrapped around Felix’s shoulders as a comfort through the pain. Hope was a frightening concept for Felix. He wanted her to survive, but the fear that she would not was not so easily quieted. When the door to the room finally creaked open, Felix jolted out of Dimitri’s grasp with surprising alacrity and scrambled hastily to his feet. He opened his mouth to ask about Annette’s condition, silently begging the Goddess that she was all right, but the words died on his tongue. 

“We have done all we can,” Professor Byleth said softly. She carried Mercedes in her arms with the woman’s head cradled against her shoulder in the depths of exhausted sleep. “I think she will be all right, but time will tell.”

Felix didn’t wait for her to say anything else.

_Annette…_

\---

_Her legs are tired from walking toward a light that does not seem very much closer, but she keeps moving all the same, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. She doesn’t know how long she has been walking and there is no sun nor moon nor stars to give any indication of it. Everything around her is dark and cold except for the warmth filling her chest. It feels like she can breathe somewhat easier now, though she hadn’t quite noticed the difficulty she’d had until it began to dissipate._

_The walking is hard though. It is so difficult to keep moving because of the shadowy figures who dog her every step, their distorted voices whispering accusations and hate into her ears. They look like men she has seen in the fragmented memories that have begun to weave a coherent tapestry again. She cannot forget their faces and she cannot fail to hear their words. They ask her why she killed them, why she didn’t turn and run instead of dirtying her own hands, why, why, why…_

_“How are you feeling? Feet sore yet?”_

_She turns toward the source of the voice. It is different from the whispers that she has heard since she began this journey. It isn’t distorted like the others and it sounds warm. She turns her head to see a young man walking beside her with his hands clasped behind his head. He glances at her from the corner of his dark eyes with a smirk on his face that looks hauntingly familiar._

_“Yes,” she replies. She continues to place one foot methodically in front of the other. “But I have to keep moving.”_

_“Yes, you do,” her companion agrees. “You don’t mind if I accompany for you a while, right?”_

_She shakes her head. It is lonely to walk alone, and she is sick of being lonely. She wonders if having his presence will stop the other voices from plaguing her. Her memories are clearer now than before. She recognizes faces and sometimes she thinks that she knows the names to match them. This man is unfamiliar to her, but his face is remarkably similar to one she has seen a thousand times in her memories. He wears his hair in the same tail that the man in her memories does, and she thinks that it means she can trust him. She knows that she has trusted his doppelganger many times._

_“Who are you?” she finds herself asking after what feels like a long time of companionable silence._

_The man shrugs. “Does it matter?”_

_She considers this question. “It does to me,” she decides._

_“I’m a companion on your journey home,” he says. He points toward the bright light ahead. “See, you’re almost there now.”_

_“Where is my home?” she asks instead. She has many questions now and wonders if he will answer any of them. She supposes that there is no harm in asking. “Do you know?”_

_“It’s where your heart is.” He laughs as if this is some grand joke that she cannot quite comprehend. “Keep walking and you’ll get there. Do me a favour and return home quickly, all right? He needs you.”_

_She doesn’t ask who needs her. She knows that her companion is gone and will not answer._

_She thinks she knows who it is anyway, even though she cannot recall the name yet._

\---

Felix kept a vigil by Annette’s bedside throughout the night and into the rosy dawn. A handful of priests rotated in and out of the room to ensure she was still breathing (faint though it was) and that her wound had not reopened or somehow become infected since she had last been examined. Each of their other friends came by one by one to take her hand and whisper sweet words in her ear, promises that she was going to wake up, that Mercedes had healed her so that she would be as good as new and that nothing had changed for her. That last was undoubtably a lie, of course, but no one wanted to face that right now. For his part, Felix said nothing at all, too afraid that he might somehow jinx her chances and fan the flame of false hope within his own chest.

Gilbert was among the first to visit the infirmary after Felix initially arrived, and although he barely acknowledged his presence in the room, Felix noticed the way his face paled as he gazed at hers. He stood as though carved from stone beside Annette, smoothing her hair gently back from her face and bright tears coursing gently down his lined cheeks. Felix didn’t have the heart to argue with the man about anything now and this was one event for which he could not truly take the blame; he really _hadn’t_ been there, so there was nothing he could possibly have done to stop it.

_It’s my fault,_ Felix told himself over and over again, a chorus of blame echoing endlessly through his mind. Despite what Dimitri had said only hours earlier, he could not help but feel the guilt clawing at his heart and filling his chest with a cold, creeping dread. _It’s all my fault._

Shortly after dawn broke, Mercedes returned bearing an armload of fresh bandages and ointments. She looked as awful as Felix felt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her lips trembled as she bent to carefully peel back the bandages over Annette’s chest. Felix couldn’t hold back a grimace at the angry red gash running across her pale skin and awkwardly turned his eyes back to her face while Mercedes began to spread fresh ointment over the wound. It was mostly closed, but still oozed gently in several places. He had seen men take wounds like this before. He was lucky that he hadn’t suffered one of this nature himself yet.

He had only ever seen a few of them survive it.

“Oh, Annie,” Mercedes murmured finally, stoppering the bottle and returning it to the pouch hanging from her side. She patted Annette’s cold cheek affectionately. “Just stay strong. You’ll be right as rain soon enough, I’m sure of it.”

“Will she?” Felix asked, unsure if the question was an accusation of a beautiful lie or desperation for it to be true. 

“I think so,” Mercedes said slowly. It wasn’t very reassuring to Felix’s ears. “We used a substantial amount of magic to stabilize her condition and coax the organs that were shutting down back to life. I believe between us all, it was enough to save her, but at this point her body needs to heal on its own. She went through a horrible shock and until she either wakes or…”

Mercedes let the implication hang in the air between them. Felix put two fingers against Annette’s neck to check that her pulse was still beating, faint though it was. 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Mercedes repeated more confidently. Felix didn’t know if she really believed it or if she was saying it to convince herself it was true, but he nodded all the same. 

“I hope you’re right,” he murmured into the silence.

After several long moments of uncomfortable silence, Mercedes made a _tsk tsk_ sound with her tongue and hastily pulled the sheet up over Annette’s chest. She glared at Felix through tired, bloodshot eyes yet still managed to maintain the appearance of an angry nurse who had just realized something important. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Out,” she said crisply, crossing her arms disapprovingly over her chest and pointing toward the door. 

“What?” Felix asked blankly. “Why?”

“I have to take care of Annette,” Mercedes said as if this was explanation enough.

“I know that. That’s why we brought her to you in the first place. What of it?”

“You’re not a healer,” she said in her most dignified voice. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “You’re not to be in the room with a patient while I’m working unless you have the skills to help.”

Felix stared at her. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yes, you are.” She jerked her thumb toward the door again. “Go. I have work to do and you’re simply in the way. Besides, there are other patients here as well who need my help. You are welcome to return later when I am finished.” Mercedes paused and added, “Rest assured, I will send for you at once should her condition change at all.”

He wanted to argue with Mercedes and insist that he was staying, regardless of what she said. He hadn’t willingly left the night before and he was no more willing now that morning had come. Yet the look in her eyes was pleading for him to do as she asked, and Felix found that he did not have the heart to deny her this one simple request. She was Annette’s closest friend, a sister to her in all but blood, and she was the only one Felix felt he could trust with her care. There were other battles wherein he could stand his ground and insist on his way. This was not one of them. 

“Send for me as soon as I can return,” Felix replied stiffly. He walked to the door and paused with his hand hovering over the handle. “Mercedes…I am sorry. I never meant to hurt her.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Mercedes said quietly. “This was Annie’s choice. Don’t take that away from her.”

Stepping out into the daylight, Felix stood in the middle of the wide street and looked around feeling slightly disoriented. People hurried in all directions paying him no mind at all. No matter how many people died in each battle, life continued on for the survivors, day after day. Grief was a luxury few could afford to indulge. You cried for only a moment before picking yourself up off the ground and marching onward with the pain still heavy in your heart because there were always chores to handle, plans to prepare, weapons to repair, and wounds to heal. An endless list of tasks followed the army wherever it went and there were somehow never enough people to do everything that needed to be done. 

It took some time to navigate the unfamiliar fort and several people looked at him too shrewdly for Felix’s liking as he passed, but he eventually found the armory. His blade was badly nicked and dried gore caked the length of it so thoroughly that Felix dreaded having to try and properly clean it now. He wasn’t sure if it was worth paying for repair or having the blacksmith smelt it down and reshape it anew. Felix was not used to feeling uncertain, but his mind was still wandering back to Annette and the memory of her songs. He did not want to think about the possibility of not hearing her voice again. He remembered what a world without Annette’s songs and laughter felt like and had no desire to return to that time. Felix was a different man now, one who was learning to hope a little more with each sunrise. It was like a fragile flower where the slightest breath of wind could uproot it from the soil and destroy it forever. 

“Oh, Felix,” Ashe said tentatively upon catching sight of him exiting the armory with a new blade and several hidden daggers some time later in the afternoon. “I heard about…what happened. How is Annette doing?”

Felix knew that he was asking out real concern for her health and not because he was trying to remind Felix of his own guilt in how she ended up in that state. He knew these things, but the question hurt, nonetheless. Ashe’s eyes were wide and earnest, so Felix sighed and steadied his hands at his side so that the other man wouldn’t notice the way they trembled.

“She’s…alive. Mercedes is tending to her.”

He knew that his voice lacked conviction and that his own fear was plainly written on his face. Ashe was observant and could not fail to notice. He nodded solemnly.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ashe said gently. “If anyone can nurse her back to health, it will be Mercedes. I’ll ask her if there’s anything I can do to help. I used to prepare tinctures and salves back home for my siblings. If I can put those skills to use for Annette, I will!”

“I’m…sure she would be grateful for your help,” Felix said awkwardly, not knowing if it was true. “Sorry to be a bother, but have you seen Sylvain? I was hoping to talk to him.”

“I passed him on my way here.” Ashe turned and pointed toward another road. “He was heading toward the stables with Ingrid. If you head down there and make a right, you’ll find them easily enough.”

Felix set off at a brisk walk in the direction Ashe had indicated and tried not to let his thoughts wander. Some people nodded politely at him as he passed. He felt like he was being watched with every step he took and judged somehow inadequate. It was ridiculous and he knew those thoughts were stemming from his own penchant for self-guilt, yet they dogged him as he made his way to find Sylvain. He didn’t know the status of their army or where he could possibly make himself useful. Showing up in the command room without a full assessment of the situation seemed a foolish idea, and he trusted Sylvain to get him up to speed first. Although Felix had only been secluded in Annette’s sickroom for a night and part of the morning, he felt as though many days had passed since he had last walked amongst people bearing their own private griefs as they moved through the actions of daily life. 

“Ing, just listen to me for a moment, please?” 

As he approached the corner Ashe had indicated lost in thoughts of his own, Felix jolted back to reality as a pair of familiar voices drifted past the wall. Sylvain sounded uncharacteristically serious and Felix found his feet stopping of their own accord. He stood uncertainly for a moment and peered around the corner. Ingrid stood with her back to him holding the reins of her pegasus in one hand. Sylvain’s eyes flashed toward him over her shoulder and Felix felt his face flush for no good reason. He hastily withdrew back around the corner and pressed his back against the wall. 

_This is stupid,_ he silently chastised himself, though he remained in place. _What is wrong with me? Eavesdropping on my friends now, it’s ridiculous._

Somehow, he instinctively knew it was best not to move just yet. He heard something all too familiar in Sylvain’s voice that gave him pause; the sound of desperation to be understood. They didn’t know he was there, but he felt like an intruder all the same. 

“I’ve got flying drills to run,” Ingrid replied briskly. “Is it urgent?”

Felix heard Sylvain shift in place. 

“Yes,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “It is.”

“Well, spit it out then.”

There was a tense silence. The pegasus whickered impatiently and Ingrid shushed it gently. Felix tried to breathe as quietly as possible and although he could not see Sylvain, he could imagine the way his brown eyes would be shining with sincerity. When he wanted to be serious, Sylvain dropped all pretense of playful carelessness. It was something he did only with those he trusted most in the world, and Felix knew he was lucky to be counted among them. He didn’t show his true self all that frequently. 

“I…” Sylvain cleared his throat and tried again. “You remember how I told you before that I was worried about you? That I wanted you to let me protect you in battle?”

“That’s kind of difficult for you to do from the ground,” Ingrid laughed. “But yes, I remember. Why?”

“When I said that…it wasn’t really what I meant to say.”

A pause. Felix felt his ears burn on his friend’s behalf. He knew with sudden clarity like the sun bursting forth from behind a thick cloud where this conversation was heading. He should leave them alone, let Sylvain say what he needed to say in private and find someone else to answer his questions. He knew that Ashe was in the armory and that Dimitri would not have the heart to comment on his ignorance. He had options and as much as he knew he should leave, he wanted to talk to Sylvain. It was selfish, but Felix had never been known for his selflessness. 

“Oh,” Ingrid replied in a rather flat voice. “I see.”

“I mean, I _do_ want to do those things,” Sylvain added quickly. “But I’ve been thinking about it and after everything that has happened…well, I just wanted to make sure I clarified myself.”

Ingrid waited. The pegasus whickered again. 

“I know that you can take care of yourself,” he began in a way that clarified nothing at all. “And you don’t really need me. But I worry about you even so, and the thought of losing you…it hurts, Ing.”

“What are you trying to say?” Ingrid interrupted. Her voice sounded strained. Felix could imagine how her green eyes would narrow and flash dangerously at the man in front of her. She always put her guard up when Sylvain tried to show her even the slightest bit of affection as though she was afraid to believe it was real. They were so good at trying not to hurt each other or be hurt that they did exactly that more often than not. He had watched them try not fall in love and not hurt each other with that love since the day Ingrid finally began to act more like herself after Glenn’s death. This conversation was many years overdue. 

“I’m trying to say that I don’t want to lose you,” Sylvain explained a little desperately. He paused and cleared his throat again. “I’m not really…good at this. You must think I’m an idiot and, well…you’re right.”

“You’re rambling,” Ingrid pointed out. “Say what you mean, Sylvain, or don’t say anything at all.”

Sylvain sucked in a breath. Felix held his own. He could feel the tension in the air.

“I love you.”

Felix heard a flurry of movement past the wall and Ingrid squeak in surprise. The pegasus stamped its hooves against the stone but neither of them seemed to pay it any mind. 

“What are you doing?” Ingrid asked in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice.

“Please,” Sylvain whispered. “Will you let me hold you for just a moment? Please, Ing.”

“You…you can’t mean this,” Ingrid murmured. “Not me.”

“Who else?” Sylvain replied quietly. “I know that you don’t think I can be serious, but I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid between us anymore. Even if you don’t feel the same way, it’s all right. I just…wanted you to know. I love you, Ingrid. I always have.”

“Syl…”

Felix tried not to focus on the muffled sounds from beyond the wall. Despite being light on his feet, he was afraid to move in case his boots scraped against the stone and alerted them to his presence. Sylvain probably knew he was there anyway, but there was no good reason to draw Ingrid’s attention to him as well. If Sylvain had been able to finally get the words out and Ingrid wasn’t pushing him away in fear or disgust, Felix knew he could not risk ruining a moment the two of them had worked so hard to achieve. So he closed his eyes and rested his head against the stone wall and wished he was with Annette instead, awake and alive. He could be kissing _her_ right now too, if only…

“I really should go,” Ingrid said breathlessly. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I want to leave but I made a commitment…”

“I understand,” Sylvain assured her equally as breathlessly. “I’m sorry to delay—”

His words cut off suddenly. 

“Can we talk tonight, Syl?” Ingrid asked after a long moment.

“Yeah,” he replied almost too softly for Felix to hear. “I’d like that.”

Moments later, Felix heard the pegasus snort and shuffle in place as Ingrid swung into the saddle. She snapped the reins and bid a soft farewell to Sylvain before the animal’s hooves pounded away in the opposite direction. He waited in silence for several minutes until the sound of the creature’s great wings had faded. 

“You can come out now, Fe,” Sylvain called with a hint of ruefulness. 

Felix sighed and pushed himself off the wall and sauntered around the corner feeling a little like a child caught in the act of spying. It was not an incorrect description of his actions. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you.”

“It’s fine,” Sylvain waved a hand vaguely in the air to emphasize this point. “I just…took your advice from before. You said I should tell her, so I finally did.”

Felix nodded slowly. “It feels freeing, doesn’t it?”

Sylvain’s turn to nod. “I wanted her to know. Now, if something happens…I won’t have any regrets about that.”

He did not say it to be cruel. The words cut deeply regardless of the intention and Felix averted his gaze. They stood together watching the clouds floating across the bright blue sky, lost in thought and memory and pain. 

“I’m happy for you,” Felix said truthfully. He wondered if Annette had woken or if Mercedes had been able to do anything more to help her condition. It was difficult not to let his mind wander to her especially when he was unable to do anything for her himself. “I hope nothing but the best. You both deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Sylvain said. He laced his hands together behind his head and glanced sidelong as his long-time friend. “We’re moving on Enbarr next. We’re so close to the end of this war that I can taste it. I decided that it’s time to think about the future and not run away from it anymore.”

_The future…_ Felix frowned at the thought. He tried not to think about the future very often, but the events of recent months were making that more and more difficult. There was the looming climactic Battle for Enbarr which would decide the fate of their world. There was the issue of his inheritance of the Duchy of Fraldarius and all the responsibilities that came with it. There was the restoration of the Church of Seiros and the reintegration of the Leicester Alliance with Faerghus. Adrestia too, if the next battle went the way they intended.

There was Annette, of course, and where she might fit into his future. To this, he _had_ given some fleeting thought. It was the easiest to consider and the one that made him both the happiest and most terrified.

“I’m surprised you’ve had time to consider the future,” Felix muttered instead, not wanting to admit that he had done the same. It seemed so final to say so, especially when some things were still so uncertain. The future would be painful if things ended a certain way and he did not want to think about that possibility. 

“What better time than now?” Sylvain replied with a shrug. “Once this is all over, I’ll have to return to Gautier territory. My father will have made plans for me, of course. If I want a future that I’m happy with, I need to make plans of my own.”

“I take it you’ve done that, then?” he laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Will your father even agree to anything you want?”

“Yes,” Sylvain said with a certainty Felix wished he had had when it still mattered. “I’m not giving _him_ a choice. The choice will be Ingrid’s.”

Ingrid’s choice. 

_Annette’s choice too, if we got through this war alive._

\---

_The light is getting closer now. Her legs are weak and her feet are sore, but the pain in her chest is nearly gone now. She does not know how much time has passed since she began to walk this dark road but her determination has not wavered. She has a goal to return home—wherever that may be—because there is no reason to remain in this place where she is alone. She hates being alone, especially when she sees faces that she loves in her memories. She wants to return to them, but the journey is become more difficult with each step she takes. Her legs wobble and the voices that have been following her laugh cruelly at her plight. The voices have not ceased their horrible accusations and she is not able to ignore them entirely._

_She stumbles—not for the first time—and falls to her knees on the cold ground._

_She knows that she must pick herself up again, but it is so much harder to do the closer she comes to the light. She is weak and it would be so much easier to stay like this than to continue._

_“I must go on,” she tells herself. She shuts her eyes and tries to steel her resolve. “I have to keep moving. I’m so close now…”_

_Footsteps echo. She is afraid to lift her eyes to see who might be coming for her now._

_“I can’t,” she whispers to no one and everyone. “I can’t make it. I have no strength left.”_

_The footsteps stop in front of her. She stares at the hem of a long, white robe that gleams like the stars. The voices that have haunted her fade into nothingness and silence envelops her like a thick, comforting blanket._

_“It’s all right,” a warm, soft voice assures her. “You can rest here for a moment. I will walk with you the rest of the way.”_

_A hand caresses her hair and she feels her whole body quiver with a sob. She has not allowed herself to cry in all the time she has been trapped in this cold place. The tears flow freely down her pale cheeks and the gentle hand continues to stroke her hair. It is a comfort, both the hand and the tears._

_“Take my hand,” the soft voice instructs her after a long time has passed._

_She allows herself to be lifted to her feet and raises her head to look upon the woman in the white robe. This woman has beautiful hair that is as golden as the sun and brighter than the light she has been chasing all this time. Her smile is kind and her eyes are like glowing amber. She has never seen this woman before but she knows her. She smiles and tightens her fingers around the woman’s hand._

_“Thank you,” she says._

_The woman does not reply. Instead, she smiles and hums a few notes of an old song that speaks of homecoming. Her companion is not truly a singer, and her voice is not well-practiced, but the song is pure and joyous and everything that she herself has always striven to be. She hums the melody too, their voices harmonizing in a way that she only has with one other person in the world. He is not a singer either, but you do not have to be good at singing to enjoy the music that two voices can make together._

_“Go home now,” the woman smiles and drops her hand. The light is blazing around them. “So many people are waiting for you. It would not do to leave them now.”_

_“Goodbye,” she replies, returning the smile. “I’m glad to have met you.”_

_The woman’s smile widens but she says nothing more, continuing the song from where she left off._

_Finally, she turns away from the woman in white and takes one last step forward._

\---

The sun was low on the horizon when Felix returned to the room where Annette still lay like a statue. Mercedes looked weary when he arrived, but she smiled through it and gestured for him to take a seat beside the bed. 

“She’s going to be all right,” Mercedes said after Felix settled himself in the chair. “Her pulse seems to be normalizing and I cannot detect any underlying problems from her injury. I think your fast action with the elixir and our magic was enough to repair the damage from the axe and halt further complications.”

“That’s wonderful,” Felix said with wide eyes. “You’re certain she’s going to be all right?”

Mercedes nodded. “Yes.”

A wave of relief washed over Felix like such that he had never felt before. Losing family had hurt him more than any blade that struck him or any scar that ached in the cold. He did not want to imagine what losing the woman he loved would feel like on top of those old wounds. Felix let out a breath he had not realized he was holding and sank back against the chair. His arms felt like limp noodles hanging by his side, as though all the strength of waiting for this news had drained him to the very tips of his fingers. He supposed he probably looked as weary as Mercedes and he was not terribly concerned by it. There would be time enough now to rest knowing that she was going to live. It was all he wanted in the world.

“Thank you,” Felix said sincerely. “Thank you for saving her.”

“I could have done nothing for her without your fast action,” Mercedes demurred. “Let us call it even and rejoice knowing that the Goddess has seen fit not to call her home just yet.”

Felix nodded, not trusting his voice not to crack if he tried to speak.

“I am going to report to Professor Byleth and Dimitri. Send for me when she wakes.” Mercedes added. She stood and gathered the few things she had left on the table beside Annette’s bed. There was a small brown sack tied with a neat bow. “Those are the possessions Annette left back at camp before our siege here. Sir Gilbert brought them earlier for her.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Felix promised.

The door swung shut behind her and he was alone with Annette once more. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the room and her hair shone like fire against the white pillow. He could see the angry pink scar stretching above the edge of the sheet to her shoulder, a bitter reminder of his own failure. Still, a scar was better than losing her life, so Felix did not waste energy hating the sight of it. He had enough scars of his own to hate. He loved her, scars and all. 

_She’s going to live,_ he reminded himself over and over as night fell. He lit the candle beside her bed and watched the shadows dance across the walls. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were back in the dormitories of Garreg Mach at a time before war and fighting became a part of their daily lives. _There’s still hope for us._

He wondered what life would have been like if this war had never happened. How many lives would have been saved and how many families would still be whole? Without this war, the Millennium Festival might been a real celebration and he might have been able to court Annette properly. She would never have risked her life to cross Faerghus alone with knights chasing her to spirit her back home. Of course, without a war and worry for the fate of their world, she might not have asked to write to him, and he would never have thought to do it himself. He might have allowed their friendship to die upon his return to Castle Fraldarius and a father with whom he had no intention of resolving their differences. He might not have given her more than a passing thought other than to miss the sound of her voice raised in song and wrongly assuming he would never have the chance to hear it day after day.

She would never have risked her life to save his. 

_What ifs and unknowns,_ Felix thought as he held Annette’s hand in his. _Questions to which there will never be any answers. All that matters is that she’s safe._

He remembered how she sang to him after his father had been killed and the way her voice had soothed his soul during that time of immense grief. Felix had no such talents and his usual show of compassion was to drag his friends onto the sparring grounds and let them pelt him with blows until they had exhausted their energy. He did not know what he could do for her that would make her feel better, and although she was not awake for it, he wanted to return the gesture. With no small amount of hesitation, Felix tentatively began to hum the opening notes of an old song that his mother used to sing for him when he was a small child. He hadn’t thought of this song since he was old enough to hold a sword and dream of being a knight. He certainly hadn’t thought of it since his mother had died.

It seemed fitting, somehow, to hum the melody now. He thought Annette would like it and knew it would make her smile if she could hear it. 

The sky was dark and the stars had begun to sparkle in the sky when he realized she was humming in time with him, her voice rough from disuse and her fingers flexing in his grip.

“Annette?” Felix whispered, forgetting the song entirely. “Are you…awake?”

Her blue eyes fluttered open and she smiled a soft, tired smile.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Felix told her. He leaned over and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m to blame for this. I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re awake…”

“You have a nice voice,” she murmured, closing her eyes and sighing. “Sing again for me, please?”

Felix was not a good singer, but he tried.

It did make her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me almost a month to write. I decided to try something a little bit different to break up the scenes where Felix is being extra broody. Work has been extra busy too so I've been mentally exhausted and didn't have a lot of energy to do much writing after work. As such, this is the last of the chapters I had been working on, so I'm officially writing and posting as I go. I can't promise to post every week now, but I'd rather not rush my writing process and put out something with which I'm not happy. Sorry about that! It'll be worth the wait, and there aren't too many more chapters to go now either :) 
> 
> Also, we've broken the 200k word mark! How cool is that? I couldn't have made it this far without all of you, so thank you!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one! Thank you for sticking with me <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	35. Into the Uncertain Future

Being confined to a sickbed was not quite as boring as Annette had expected, but it also was not nearly as fun as exploring Fort Merceus would have been. 

The main benefit to being confined to a small room with only one window was that she had a constant stream of visitors to shower her with attention. Ashe and Dedue visited her first thing the following morning after she had awoken and presented her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers (she still had no idea where they managed to find such fine blooms or the carved glass vase) and a bottle of homemade salve for her chapped skin. It was a very thoughtful gift and Annette felt her heart lighten each time she caught sight of the flowers on her bedside table. Although a handful of other patients were still confined to their own beds in the sickroom, the bright colours made it feel somewhat more like her own space.

Professor Byleth and Dimitri paid her a visit that same afternoon. It was an unfortunately short amount of time as their attention was required elsewhere in a variety of meetings and war councils (which Mercedes had flatly refused to allow her to attend) but Annette was grateful that they had taken the time to visit her nonetheless. Dimitri had held out a neat wooden box with _Virion’s Fine Teas_ written in gold cursive script across the lid. 

“It seems that the former commander here was a fan of rose petal blended teas,” Professor Byleth explained with a knowing smile as Dimitri handed the box to her. “We found this one in the command tower and thought you would enjoy it.”

“Wow,” Annette breathed. “This brand is so expensive! I bet they are delicious. Thank you so much!”

“It’s no trouble,” Dimitri assured her. “Please, rest easily and do not worry about anything.”

Not worrying was a difficult task for a woman who was normally so busy, and Annette found that it became harder as the days passed to keep her spirits up. The room became lonely as the last of the remaining patients were released and she was left alone throughout the days with little to keep her mind engaged. Ingrid had managed to find a few tattered books about battle tactics and spells to help her pass the time, none of which were of any use to Annette, though she decided not to mention that. She tried to read them simply as a way to pass the time, but her interest waned about a quarter of the way through _Spellslinging for Beginners_ which was not only outdated, but also rather sensationalist for supposedly being a textbook. She decided not to bother reading the others. 

Felix visited her each morning after his dawn training when she was usually still half-asleep and again in the evenings well after the moon had risen in the sky. Satisfied that she was no longer on the verge of death, he had redoubled his efforts to ensure his skills were as sharp as ever and threw himself into planning for their march on Enbarr with Dimitri when he was not otherwise occupied. Annette envied him a little for that—she was not the most apt tactician, but she had always enjoyed listening to the debates and being able to provide her own opinion on certain matters whenever she could. Listening to Felix summarize the events she had missed was depressing, making her feel more and more restless. 

“We’ve only just entered Verdant Rain Moon,” Felix pointed out when she expressed her frustration at being stuck in bed every day. “The army won’t be moving just yet, and our advance siege troops will be leaving before the rest of us in any case. We have everything under control.”

“I know,” Annette muttered, clutching the sheet close around her shoulders. “It’s just…I want to help. I hate feeling useless.” 

“You’re far from useless, Annie,” Felix admonished her with a frown. “We’d never have made it this far without you.”

“That’s kind of you to say. I just…I hate not being able to _do_ anything.”

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’ll be able to do anything you like once you’re fully healed,” he said reasonably. Although it was true, it did not make her feel any better about the situation. 

“I know,” Annette replied glumly. “I’m not used to being stuck inside like this, unable to help heal anyone, or help plan our next move, or practice some new spells—”

“Those should be the least of your concerns right now,” Felix interrupted sharply. “You probably shouldn’t even be fighting in the next battle given the extent of your injuries. You need the fullest amount of time to recover. Besides,” he added somewhat loftily, “Mercedes won’t condone it if you aren’t healed fully in any case.”

“I’ll be ready,” Annette vowed. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. It wouldn’t feel right to miss our final battle after all this.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Felix snorted. “This is war. Not needing to participate in _any_ fight, not needing to risk your life—there is nothing I would like more for you than that.”

“Felix…” Annette murmured. She felt her face flush and glanced down at the sheet clasped between her fingers. He was blushing too, but his eyes were as earnest as ever. He always said exactly what he meant, and it was comforting to know that he truly cared. “Thank you. But…you know that if I can fight, I will, right?”

He nodded stiffly, almost as though the motion was against his will. 

“I’ll be safe,” she added quietly. Annette hoped it would ease his guilt. “I promise.”

“Of course,” he said in a voice full of fierce pride. “I’ll make sure of it this time.”

She smiled. Felix offered a crooked grin back and ruffled her hair affectionately. It seemed like it was an eternity ago that Annette had felt nervous around him and was convinced that her feelings would never be reciprocated. So much had changed since the day they met, and she treasured every quiet moment they shared like this. He was not inclined to flaunt his affection in front of others, preferring to show this side of himself to her in private, whether under the stars or behind closed doors. He trusted her, and Annette dared not take that for granted.

“It wasn’t your fault anyway,” she said, leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek. They had had this conversation several times since she had awoken, dazed and achy, and she had told him the same thing time and time again. “I saw that you were in danger and I just…my mind went blank. I knew I had to do something.”

“I didn’t even realize you carried a dagger on you in battle. Is that new?” Felix asked, sounding rather impressed. His face was still pink from her kiss, but he held her gaze easily. It would be easy to lose herself in his smoldering amber eyes.

“Yes,” she giggled. “Professor Byleth thought I could use it since I mainly use magic and it’s impractical for me to carry heavy weapons into battle most of the time. She had Ashe and I practice basic self-defence with her when time allowed after Ailell. It was meant for emergencies.”

“She’s right,” he agreed with a nod. “You should never be without one in times like this especially.”

A silence followed this statement as the two of them recalled the way Annette’s dagger glinted in the sunlight when she threw it. She hadn’t spent a lot of time practicing that move; Professor Byleth had decided that focusing on hand-to-hand combat would be the most useful since enemies would be more likely rush her down to avoid allowing Annette the space she needed to cast her spells. Aiming a dagger to throw it properly was a lot more difficult than she had expected and completely different from spellcasting, so her throws had always been a little bit shaky. It was not a move she had expected to use—indeed, she had hoped never to need to use the dagger at all—but she was sure instinct had guided her arm that day. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the way it protruded from Linhardt’s chest. 

“Do you know what happened to their bodies?” Annette asked in a small voice. 

Felix shook his head and she felt her heart drop. “All bodies were gathered and either burned or thrown into a mass grave outside the walls of Fort Merceus. We don’t have the resources to preserve and return any, even if we _could_ arrange something with their families.”

_It’s long gone then,_ Annette thought wearily. She felt suddenly very drained, as if the mere thought of killing her one-time friends had sucked out the last of her energy. _No matter. I won’t need it anymore anyway._

“It’s late now,” Felix went on gently. He stood and frowned until Annette meekly laid back against her pillow. She kept the sheet pulled up around her neck and waited patiently as he snapped his ever-present cape on over his shoulders. “Sleep well, Annie.”

He bent forward to kiss her lips and lingered there longer than he ought to have done. She inhaled his scent hungrily and leaned into the kiss with all the passion of a woman who wanted nothing more than to never be parted from the man she loved. The world melted away around them as Felix slid a hand through her hair and tilted her chin up to kiss her more deeply. It was slow and fervent and everything that Annette had ever dreamed of as a young girl when kissing a boy had seemed like an exciting and mysterious experience. 

When they parted, breathless and blushing, Annette leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose in farewell.

“Good night, Felix.”

\---

Nearly a week had passed since Annette woke from her injuries and despite the frequent visitors and attention from her well-meaning friends, she became more and more antsy with so little to stimulate her mind or capture her attention. She was not quite desperate enough to give the books Ingrid had brought her a second chance, but the longer Mercedes refused to allow her to move outside the little room, the more she considered it. It was not until Annette began rifling through the small bag of possessions on her bedside table that she remembered she had brought the little notebook and quill that Felix had given her as a birthday gift. She ran her fingers over the supple leather cover and flipped the book open in her lap. 

She had written a few lines and scattered verses in the first few pages, but with the last several weeks being so busy, there had not been any time to write more. Annette scanned the feeble attempts she had made to add another verse to the Library Song that Felix had loved so much with a critical eye. Typically, she would make up new verses and new songs as she worked, with no formal process to guide her. Composing her own songs was a purely instinctual activity and it had served her well, but she had always admired the way her mother could compose beautiful songs as though it was a simple as breathing. With nothing much else to occupy her time, it seemed as good an opportunity as any to try and emulate her. 

“Where to begin?” Annette wondered aloud, tapping the blue feathered quill against her chin pensively. “I suppose I’ll focus on the lyrics for now, but what should I write about?”

Most of her previous compositions revolved around whatever she had happened to be doing at the time, but Annette was quite sure there would be nothing more boring to sing about than being stuck in a sickbed for days on end. By comparison, her mother’s music was mature and beautiful; Annette often felt as though her mother’s songs could coax out any and every emotion she had ever felt. Although she was not famous by any means, Lady Dominic’s lovely voice and skill at song-writing were praised by all who heard her. She sang of love, sorrow, pain, heartbreak, grief, and all manner of other feelings while her fingers danced across the keys of the piano to weave the story together.

“Sing about what you know,” Lady Dominic had told her young daughter all those years ago. Annette could remember sitting beside her at the piano, her legs far too short to reach the pedals but already incapable of resisting the urge to sing along with the music. “The Goddess has gifted you a life full of wonderful experiences. Use them for your inspiration and your music will always be genuine.”

Her experiences lately had been horribly skewed toward the horrors of war. It felt wrong to mar the blank page with words of sadness and grief when there was already so much of both in the world at that very moment. She knew it was important to reflect on those things for her own peace of mind as much as anyone else’s, but Annette did not yet feel ready to face her own inner griefs. Perhaps one day she could compose a lament for the friends she had killed and all the other nameless people she had cut down on the battlefield. It was a way to assuage her own guilt. It was not an atonement, but it if it would help her accept what she had done, surely it would also help others accept the pain of those losses this war had caused. 

She wanted to write something happier, something that captured the fleeting moments of joy between battles. Life continued during war, no matter how devastating a fight or how many lives were lost, the survivors carried on with their own personal struggles and dreams. Despite her own fears and aversion to battle, Annette did not need to look far to recall her own moments of quiet happiness from the past nine months since reuniting with her closest friends. Finding Mercedes awaiting her in an inn far south of Barony Dominic, Felix allowing her to wrap her arms around him at dawn in the ruins of Garreg Mach, coaxing the barren greenhouse back to life—these were only a few of the memories Annette had to prove that even life during war could flourish. 

_Love. Trust. Hope._

“Good morning, Annie!” Mercedes’ voice jolted Annette out of her reverie. She hadn’t heard the latch click when Mercedes opened the door. “You look happy. What are you doing?”

“Nothing much,” Annette answered automatically. She snapped the book closed and shoved it back into the bag on the nightstand. She felt the neat stack of letters her father had given her tumble against her hand. “Just trying to pass the time. Do you suppose I can get up and leave this room soon?” 

Mercedes’ eyes were soft with compassion. “I understand your eagerness.” she murmured. “May I examine your wound, Annie? Then I will be able to make an accurate judgement of your progress.”

Obediently, Annette let the sheet drop from her shoulders and shrugged out of the spare linen dress Mercedes had given her to wear. The air make her skin prickle and she looked away as her friend closely examined at the angry pink skin closing over the gash she had taken from Caspar’s axe. Annette couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. She could remember Felix’s face above, tearstained and streaked with blood, and the way his voice broke as he tried to assure her that she was going to be all right. She had blacked out from the pain and the blood loss after those words, oblivious to everything that had happened after that. It had felt like she was waking into a dream when she heard his voice singing softly into the night.

“Your wound appears to be healing well,” Mercedes said cheerfully. Gently she spread a healing ointment along Annette’s skin, running her fingers slowly from where the wound started at her left shoulder down between her breasts and to her opposite hip. The ointment stung slightly as it seeped into her flesh, but Annette was used to it by now. “I’m sorry to say that it will scar.”

_I have scars all over my body, Annie. What’s one more?_

“Don’t apologize, Mercie,” Annette said quietly. She had been lucky to escape with only a few small scars before now; she was a mage with comparatively little armor next to someone like Felix or Ingrid. She had always been more likely to die if she took an attack like Caspar’s than to escape with only a scar. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was standing her now, alive and whole. “You did all you could to save me and I’m alive. That’s what matters.”

She hated the scar, but she wouldn’t admit it to Mercedes. It was a sign of her best friend’s hard work to save her life and Annette would forever be indebted to her for that. It was also a reminder that she had been able to save Felix from a blow that could have killed him, a small repayment for all the times he had thrown himself into harm’s way to save her. She hated the sight of it, but she would learn to accept it for everything that it represented. 

“Of course I did,” Mercedes replied, her voice cracking slightly over the words. “I couldn’t lose you, Annie. If you had died, I think…you would have taken at least two of us with you. Maybe three.”

“Well, I’m alive,” Annette said more gently. “So, none of us need to die. One more battle, and we’re all free. We can start repairing this world and make it so much better than it was before.”

Mercedes stood and helped her step back into the dress. She laced it up with deft fingers and smiled more brightly than Annette had seen her do in days. “You’re right. We have so much to do when this is over.”

Annette’s legs were unsteady from so long spent in bed, so she sank back onto the edge of the mattress. 

“I think you can start moving around again,” Mercedes went on in a more businesslike voice. “I don’t believe your wound will re-open at this point unless you put extreme stress on it. You mustn’t participate in any training or exercises. Stick to walking short distances so that your muscles become strong again and take frequent breaks, drink lots of water—”

“I understand!” Annette interrupted Mercedes’ speech with a giggle. “Thank you. I promise not to do anything strenuous without your express approval.”

Mercedes smiled and took a seat beside her on the edge of the bed. “It’s in my nature to worry for you,” she said. “Don’t mind me. I’ll let Professor Byleth know that you’re well enough to move to the officer quarters she has set aside for our use until we leave here now that you’re feeling better.” She paused for a moment and offered an apologetic smile. “You should know that I only insisted you remain here to ensure your wound would heal properly first.”

The thought of leaving the sickroom for good was absolutely tantalizing. She did not much care where her new room was so long as it was somewhere close to her friends. “Let’s go find Ingrid,” Annette said with excitement bubbling in her chest. “I want to surprise her and tell her that I’m finally free of this room. And,” she added slyly, “I want to hear how things are going with Sylvain.”

The sunlight outside her sickroom was bright and warm, and although it was still early, it was already a hot summer’s day so far south. Annette drew in a deep breath of the fresh air and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess for the miracle that was her life and all the people in it. She laced her arm with Mercedes’ and together they walked slowly through the throngs of people hurrying along on their own business. The small sack of her few possessions bobbed gently against her thigh as she walked. “I’ve no intention of returning to that room,” Annette had declared as they made ready to leave. “I’ll sleep _anywhere_ else.”

It was a long way to where Professor Byleth held their war councils and Mercedes insisted they stop frequently for Annette to rest her legs and catch her breath. She couldn’t deny that her body was still weak from her injury and that she needed time to regain her stamina, but Annette couldn’t find the heart to complain. It was good to simply be out and about once more. 

They crossed paths with Ingrid and Felix before they actually reached the council chamber. The two of them were deep in conversation as the women approached, Mercedes gently reining Annette’s quickening pace in before she managed to trip over her own feet and make a mess of everything all over again. 

“Annette!” Ingrid cried with glee when she caught sight of them across the intersecting roads. Abandoning her conversation with Felix, she ran across the square, nimbly dodging passersby, and skidding to a halt in front of her with Felix still hot on her heels. “You’re out of bed!”

“Yes!” she laughed and threw her arms around Ingrid’s neck. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve last been outside.”

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Ingrid grinned at her. She glanced over her shoulder at Felix and made a shooing gesture with her hand as though he was nothing more than a stray cat. “We’ll talk later. I’ve got business with Annie and Mercie.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but Annette saw the quirk in the corner of his mouth. Real smiles were rare from him—especially in a group setting—but they were slowly coming more easily to him and Annette could see them forming almost before he even realized it. He saluted Ingrid with mock deference, nodded politely to Mercedes, and stared at Annette without saying anything at all. He did not need to; she held his warm gaze and smiled reassuringly. She knew with a certainty as deep as the ocean that he would find her later, and she _almost_ wished she could force time to skip ahead to the evening instead. 

“I hope we aren’t keeping you from anything,” Mercedes said courteously as Felix sauntered away. 

“Not at all,” Ingrid assured them. She fell in on Annette’s other side and linked their arms together as the three of them set off in the opposite direction. “I need a break from training and you ladies provided the perfect escape. Did you see how Felix didn’t even bother to nag me about it?”

“I’m sure he’ll make up for that later,” Mercedes laughed. “I know there aren’t many nice spots to relax in a place like this, but I know of a tiny garden we could visit. It’s just over that way.”

True to her word, the garden was not a far distance and although it was indeed very small, Annette thought it was quite lovely despite the size. It had likely been designed long ago at the time Fort Merceus itself had been built because there was a small moss-covered statue of the Goddess surrounded by flowers and a flat, worn stone on which to kneel set in the ground before her. There were two worn benches on either side of little garden to Annette’s great relief and she settled herself on one with a sigh of contentment. Her feet and legs were sore from the walking, but it was a good feeling and meant that she would soon be her old, energetic self.

“It’s great that you’re feeling better, Annette,” Ingrid said again. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Annette replied sincerely. “I want to help and it’s _really_ hard to do that when you’re stuck in bed morning, noon, and night!”

Ingrid laughed heartily but Mercedes fixed her with a disapproving glare that was marred slightly by the way her eyes sparkled with pride. “I haven’t given you clearance for fighting,” she reminded Annette. “Depending how your body heals, you may not be able to participate in the fight at Enbarr either—”

“I’ll be ready for it,” Annette interjected with the same ferocity she had displayed the night before. She wondered sometimes if Felix and Mercedes compared notes on these types of conversations. It was not the first time she had given them the same answer to the same question on separate occasions. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“There’s still plenty of time between now and then,” Ingrid said without the slightest hint of uncertainty. “I’m sure that with plenty of rest, you’ll be fine by then—” she coughed at the sight of the glare Mercedes levelled at her and awkwardly changed the subject. “—but anyway, that’s not important right now.”

“No, of course not,” Annette agreed quickly. “Tell me, how are _you_ doing, Ingrid?”

“Me?” the blonde woman squeaked. Annette supposed she was not a terribly subtle person when it came to probing for information and Ingrid was smart to enough to pick up on the implication in her words. “Just peachy. The same as always, nothing much new—”

“Oh, Ingrid,” Mercedes cut her off before the babbling could continue. “You don’t need to pretend in front of us. We’ll listen if you want to talk.”

Annette nodded vigorously in agreement and Ingrid let out a long breath. 

“I _am_ fine,” she said more quietly. “In all honesty…things really _are_ fine between us.”

“That’s good to hear!” Annette smiled so brightly that even Ingrid could not help but smile back. It was small and shy, and her face was pink with what might have been embarrassment, but she looked happier than Annette could remember seeing her in years. “I’m so glad that you gave Sylvain a chance.”

“Me too,” she said in a voice that was barely higher than a whisper. “He’s really been nothing but a gentleman. I’m so used to seeing him with a different woman day after day that I really thought he would be more…pushy about certain things.”

“People often act that way when there is someone else that they’re interested in who does not—or they believe does not—feel the same way,” Mercedes explained in her most sisterly voice. “He’s a good man. He means well and he trusts you enough to be himself with you. It makes a difference.”

_Trust._ Annette knew from experience that it was perhaps the single most important factor in any relationship. It was responsible for the way Felix bared his soul to her after the death of his father and the reason why her mother had helped her escape the pseudo-prison that was Barony Dominic. Trust in Mercedes had given Annette a second chance at a life that might otherwise have ended that day under the bright sun that blazed above them even now. It was a lack of trust and willingness to understand that had allowed this war to drag on for as long as it had. 

“I should thank you both,” Ingrid said sincerely. “If not for your encouragement, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough for this…”

“You give us too much credit,” Annette responded with a smile. Mercedes nodded cheerfully as she spoke. “You always had it in you. We just wanted to see you happy.”

Ingrid’s eyes were watery, but her voice was steady when she spoke again. “My betrothal to Glenn was a great match for my family, you know. My father worked very hard to arrange it and I can still remember how pleased he was once all the paperwork was signed. It was supposed to bring the Galatea family back into prominence and wealth.”

Annette glanced sidelong at Mercedes. Ingrid had not opened up to them quite like this in all the time they had known her, and it felt like a great responsibility to listen to her tale. Annette had heard bits and pieces of this betrothal in passing over the years from Felix, but it was not a topic he had much interest in pursuing and she did not want to pry. In all honesty, it was a common kind of story, and not just because you could find it in storybooks—the same thing happened to betrothed couples all the time. The difference was that storybooks had a happy ending and in the real world, happy ends were far more rare.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” Ingrid sighed, staring at her feet and sounding a little bitter. “I really loved Glenn and I think he loved me too. Losing him felt like a sword to my gut. My father was beside himself after that happened. I think he tried to convince Lord Rodrigue to draw up a similar contract with Felix, but nothing ever came of it. Since then, my father has worked tirelessly to find a suitable match for me that would bring our house the status and wealth he craves.”

“Oh, Ingrid,” Mercedes murmured, standing gracefully and moving to the other bench. She wrapped her arms around Ingrid’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. You’ve gone through so much.”

“I used to wonder if it was all right to move on after Glenn died,” Ingrid went on after a pause. Birds chirped in the distance and the sunlight glinted off her hair like a golden halo. “He was many things, but petty wasn’t one of them. It took me years to really accept that.”

“A good man will always wait,” Mercedes quoted, squeezing her tightly. 

“Even when I did, it felt wrong to be happy with someone else,” she continued softly. “It was all in my head, I know that, but it was so hard. Syl is completely different from Glenn in every possible way, so when I realized how I felt, it was a bit of a shock. I spent too much time wondering if I was wrong to feel that way and trying to deny it.” Ingrid paused and drew in a deep breath. The words were spilling out now, like a river flooding the banks in springtime. “When we chatted about this back in Fhirdiad…I realized it was all right.” 

“Sometimes it just takes talking it out,” Annette said sagely. “Girl talk is important at every stage in life. _Especially_ when it comes to men.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Ingrid agreed. “I’m glad I have you two in my life. When we return home, I am ready to face my father and tell him that I’m not giving up my dream of being a knight to marry. The two aren’t mutually exclusive and what I do after this war is _my_ choice.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mercedes exclaimed, clapping her hands together merrily. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Annette grinned. “You’ll always have us! We’re here to back you up.”

The three women laughed under the warm sun of Verdant Rain Moon in a fort set squarely in the middle of enemy territory as though all the world’s troubles were nothing more than a fleeting thought in the face of their own lives. For a brief, blissful moment, Annette could imagine that they were back in Fhirdiad sipping tea and eating sweets in one of the gardens as though there was nothing sad or painful left in the world that might still tear them all apart. If the Goddess were gracious, it would become a reality in a not far distant future.

\---

In the privacy of her own room later that evening, Annette sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and a thin quilt wrapped over her shoulders and wondered what her own future might look like. The closer they came to the end of the war, the more worries about her own future began to weigh on her heart. She wondered what her mother was doing now and if she’d heard the news of Fort Merceus yet and whether her mother had any plans for Annette when she returned home. It was only in recent years that she had begun to take a more active role in her daughter’s life and flatly refused to allow Baron Dominic to arrange a betrothal not unlike one that any other young noblewoman might have.

Assuming they won the battle at Enbarr—and Annette was sure that they would, but it felt unlucky to say so aloud—what would happen when she returned home? She was already much older than most noblewomen were when a betrothal was arranged and, more importantly, she had no interest in one. Not after the love that had blossomed between her and Felix, not after everything they had gone through to arrive at this point where there were no secrets between them any longer. 

_Where does Felix fit into this future?_ Annette wondered fretfully. _He’ll be Duke Fraldarius and I’ll just be a lady with hardly any status to speak of on a barony smaller than even Galatea. Will he even want a future together when I have nothing to offer but my songs?_

She wanted to believe that he wanted a future with her, he had implied as much under the moonlight in Fhirdiad. It was a foolish thing to worry about, but Annette was a woman like any other, and she craved the comfort of certainty that he wanted it too. Even if it _was_ what he wanted, would it be that easy to arrange? Annette did not think that there was anyone who would stand in their way—certainly none of the Blue Lions would—but she was not even sure if she had a dowry or if her mother would approve. Lady Dominic had never met Felix and if she stood in the way of Baron Dominic’s machinations, did that mean she would also be critical of Annette’s own choice? There simply were more questions than answers and Annette realized she had never missed her mother more than when she could not even exchange regular letters with her.

Felix was not the only issue in Annette’s foggy future either. Leaning over to the nightstand beside her bed, Annette pulled the neat stack of letters her father had given her and stared at them in her lap for a long moment. The topmost letter had her own name written in shaky script on the faded parchment. The ‘A’ was blotched with what she tried not to believe was a long-dried tear. She had not been able to bring herself to read them yet, but her natural curiosity had been mounting ever since he had shoved them into her hands. 

“Father…will you ever come back home?” Annette murmured, her fingers tightening around the letters. “Will you have a place in my future too?”

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Annette startled at the sound of quiet, persistent rapping at her door and hastily set the letters aside. With the quilt still wrapped around her shoulders like a patchwork cloak, she pulled the door open a crack to peer into the hallway. 

“Hey,” Felix said, surreptitiously glancing down the hall. “May I come in?”

She nodded and opened the door wide enough so he could enter and shut it with a quiet latch. The room was hardly large enough for her and lacked any furnishings beyond the bed, nightstand, washbasin, and a vanity with a cracked mirror. Annette scrambled back onto the bed and patted the space beside her. 

“You can sit with me if you like,” she said quickly. “Did you need something?”

“I saw a light under your door,” Felix replied, not bothering to answer the question as he sat beside her. He set something wrapped in brown burlap in his lap. He cleared his throat and added by way of explanation, “My room is just on the other side of the hall from here.”

“Have you been training all this time?” Annette asked shrewdly. “It’s like ten o’clock at night. You’ll end up hurt if you practice in the dark, haven’t I told you that before?”

“Keep it down a bit, would you?” Felix muttered distractedly. “I know Mercedes has the room beside yours, and I don’t want to hear a lecture from her that _I’m_ at fault for keeping you up tonight.”

Annette blushed scarlet and stared at her hands. She would not put it past Mercedes to do exactly that, but Annette could not deny that she would have far preferred to spend the night—and every night, for that matter—in Felix’s arms, listening to his heart beat in his chest as he stroked her hair and kissed her face until she fell asleep in his arms. It wouldn’t be the first time they spent a night together, after all. If they had not gone so far as others might have by this time in their relationship, Annette had spent more than one night when she was alone wondering what that would be like. 

“If she says anything, I’ll set her straight,” Annette assured him once she felt her face had gone back to normal. “What’s that?”

Felix fidgeted uncomfortably beside her and his face flushed a delightful shade of pink. “I brought this for you,” he said, placing it into her hands. “It’s nothing special really. But since you lost the other one, I wanted to replace it.”

Annette carefully unwrapped the plain burlap fabric to reveal a long silver knife. The blade was thin and glinted brightly in the dim candlelight of her room. The hilt was wrapped with brown leather to provide a better grip than the old blade had done. She turned the dagger over carefully in her hands and saw _A.F.D._ engraved into the other side of the blade. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Annette whispered, glancing up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yes, I did,” Felix insisted. His amber eyes glowed with a mixture of love and pride, and Annette felt her heart beat faster in her chest the longer he held her gaze. “Promise me that you’ll keep it with you and use it to defend yourself if you need to.”

“I will,” she said softly, wrapping the dagger back in the burlap and setting it on the nightstand beside the letters from her father. “Thank you, Felix. I’ll treasure it.”

“You don’t need to do that,” he muttered embarrassedly. “It’s just an extra precaution to make sure you’re safe in case we’re separated in battle—”

The words died abruptly as Annette knelt beside him and pressed her lips against his cheek. Even after all the time they had spent slowly learning how to be vulnerable, a simple kiss against his cheek was enough to make his face flush red and breathing to quicken. 

“I know,” she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder. “I promise. Don’t worry, all right? We’re all going to be all right. I’m sure of it.”

She wasn’t sure of it, but Annette was nothing if not hopeful. 

“I know,” Felix replied quietly, kissing the top of her head. “I trust you, Annie. Like you said before, this war will be over soon, and we can all go back to living our own lives.” His hands were tangled in her hair, pulling her closer against his chest as though he was afraid that she might disappear if he let go. “I can’t lose you again.”

His voice was so soft that she almost didn’t hear the words. 

“You won’t,” Annette whispered, pushing back against the headboard and clambering into his lap. She took his face with both hands and kissed him gently on the mouth. His lips parted easily and he wrapped his hands around her shoulders and the small of her back. Felix’s grip was so tight that Annette might have worried he would leave marks on her skin if she wasn’t so concerned with kissing him as deeply as she could to satiate the need they had been nursing since that night in Fhirdiad. It was easier to forget about the uncertainty of the future when she could taste Felix in her mouth and smell the familiar scent of leather and pine on his clothes. 

“Annette…” Felix murmured breathlessly between kisses. “You’re making this hard…”

“I know,” she giggled, pulling away with a wicked glint in her eye. 

He blushed scarlet, but he held her gaze defiantly. “You’re still healing. Even though I…well…” he swallowed the lump in his throat and began again, his voice steadier now than before. “I love you Annie, but I’m not risking your health. Please…”

She sighed heavily and sat back on her heels, her own face flushing now. He was right, of course; it would be foolhardy to take a chance with her wound still healing. “I know. I’m sorry. I just…” she paused, searching for the right words. “I’m…”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I understand.” Felix told her. He pulled her back against him in an embrace that felt warm and safe and certain. They lay together in a comfortable silence while the candle burned low on the nightstand and cast deep shadows along the stone walls of the little room. As her breathing slowed and Felix’s body relaxed against hers, Annette allowed herself to let out a deep, shuddering breath. His arms tightened around her protectively. 

“I’m just…a little afraid,” Annette whispered. “I’m sorry. I feel safe with you, Felix, and I just don’t want to lose this. Even if we win this battle, what is going to happen next? We all go back home to Faerghus and…then what?”

She had had the courage to tell him how she felt on a night not all that long ago and it had led them here. If she had the courage then, Annette thought it would not be so hard to tell him her fears now. 

“I love you, Annette, and nothing will ever change that. I won’t let anything separate us again,” Felix vowed in her ear, gently turning her head to face him. She saw the sincerity of the words blazing in his eyes and offered a small, tender smile in reply. He kissed her lips gently, more softly than she had thought a man like him—all rough edges and hidden depths—could. “Whatever the future brings, even if we go separate ways for a time, I’ll find you again. I promise.”

If there was nothing else of which she could be certain, Annette felt her heart lighten in her chest knowing that she could always place her trust in Felix. He had never let her down before and he never said anything that he did not mean. She laced her fingers between his and squeezed his hands. 

“I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes,” she promised. “But if you make me wait too long, I’ll come find you myself.”

He grinned and kissed her again. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It was dawn when Felix finally crept back across the dark hall to his own room to change before his morning training, leaving Annette alone in the patchwork quilt with only her own thoughts and his lingering scent for company. She lay quietly against the pillow for several minutes to gather her thoughts. The future was uncertain, but she realized now that there _were_ aspects of it that she could impact. She could not control the course of the future no more than she could control the way the moon waned or the rivers flowed, but she _could_ make her own desires for the future known to the people who mattered in her life. What they did with that knowledge was their own decision, but she did not want to live with the regret of doing nothing when she could have done _something._

Although it was very early, Annette felt wide awake after a night spent sleeping soundly in Felix’s arms. Steeling her nerves, she sat up and pulled the stack of her father’s letters into her lap and began to read. 

\---

“I _think_ you’ll be all right to fight,” Mercedes said slowly as Annette slipped back into her dress and straightened the skirt. “We’re still a week or two out from arriving at Enbarr ourselves, and you’ve made excellent progress.”

A week had passed since the night Felix promised he would find her again no matter what the future brought to them. It was not the only night they had spent together; after three consecutive nights curled up in his arms, she’d joked that having her own room seemed pointless now and he’d laughed so freely that during the following morning, Mercedes had reminded Annette not to do _anything_ strenuous until she gave her approval. When she told Felix of that conversation, he’d only rolled his eyes and muttered “I told you so.”

“Wonderful,” Annette beamed at her friend. “I’ll be ready for it.”

“I’m sure,” Mercedes laughed. She gave Annette a playful shove toward the door. “You’d better go now if you intend to catch him before he leaves.”

The advance siege force was departing from Fort Mercedes under the direction of Sir Gilbert in much the same fashion as when they marched on Fhirdiad. Annette had read all his letters in one night and then re-read them more carefully over the following evenings before Felix returned from his training. She cried more than once over them—it had caused Felix quite a scare the first night he’d found her in tears with a dozen faded letters scattered around her. 

“Thanks, Mercie,” Annette said over her shoulder. 

Adrestian summer days brought an extreme heat even in the early morning and Annette found that she was fanning her face uselessly with her hand within minutes of stepping outside. She wondered if her father would have left off his armor for the trip and immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous—she had never seen him without his trusty armor since the day she first arrived at the Officer’s Academy. He hadn’t even removed it when they travelled to Ailell. A little heat now would surely make no difference to him. 

It was still early and even with all the planning that had gone into preparing this advance siege force, actually getting it ready to move took longer than anyone had anticipated. Annette had spoken only briefly to her father since her recovery and he had seemed relieved that she was doing well. He was a hard man to read, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes where his voice could not. It was enough; Annette was good at reading feelings that went unspoken. 

Annette rounded the corner into the little garden with the statue of the Goddess and smiled. 

“Hello, Father,” she said. “May I have a moment of your time?” 

He was kneeling with his back to her, his hands clasped together and head bowed with reverence before the statue. At the sound of Annette’s voice, Gilbert lifted his head and nodded slowly. His orange hair was faded and streaked with grey. “Of course,” he murmured in his gravelly voice. “I would like nothing more than that. You are well?”

“I am,” Annette said. She laced her hands together behind her back and smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “I read all of your letters. The last one was dated only last Garland Moon, just after we liberated Derdriu. You…you never stopped writing them, did you?”

Gilbert shook his head from where he knelt on the ground. 

“My birthday,” Annette went on, silently praying her voice would remain steady. She had thought long and hard about what she wanted to say to him. It should have been easy. “Mother’s birthday. Every possible occasion, every year—without fail—since the Tragedy of Duscur.”

“Yes,” he murmured, bowing his head again. “Of course I did.”

“Then why did you not send any of them?” Annette asked, biting her lip to cease its trembling. “Even a single letter would have been better than years of silence.”

“I tried,” Gilbert said quietly. He stood unsteadily and turned to face her. His eyes were clouded with pain and unshed tears. The sight of it made Annette’s heart stop in her chest. “I _wanted_ to send them all. My guilt for abandoning you stayed my hand every time I approached the postmaster. I feared—wrongly, evidentially—that you and your mother hated me for my actions. You would be well within your rights to do so. I would not blame you for it.”

“I used to say to Mother that I wished you would write to us,” Annette said softly. She could feel tears welling in her own eyes. This conversation was so much more difficult than she could have imagined. “I used to ask her _when_ you would write to us. I think my own naiveté hurt her even more than your silence did.”

“I am truly sorry,” Gilbert whispered, the tears sliding down his cheeks and shining in the morning sunlight. “I know that those words can change nothing. Know only that they are true.”

“Be that as it may,” Annette countered softly. “I don’t want to hear your apologies. Please, send those letters to Mother. Trust me when I say that she would be thrilled to hear from you. She loves you still. _I_ love you still.”

A silence enveloped their small corner of the world. Gilbert’s hands trembled at his sides and the tears seemed to fall with ever increasing speed down his pale, lined cheeks. Annette knew that she was asking more than he could possibly give; if he were willing to send them, he would have done it of his own accord years ago.

_I had to ask,_ Annette reminded herself. She had planned for this, at least. _He needed to be given the blessing to do it himself if he could._

“I cannot,” Gilbert said, the words sounding as though they were wrenched unwillingly from somewhere deep within his soul. She could see the pain and fear warring in his eyes. “Annette…I wish I could be as strong as you are. I wish I could send them with my own hand but…I cannot.”

“It’s all right,” Annette said truthfully. She took two long strides forward and threw her arms around her father. He stiffened but she held on as tightly as his bulky form would allow. “I’ll send them.”

“You will…send them?” he repeated uncertainly. “Are you certain that it is…a good idea?”

“Trust me,” Annette repeated against his chest.

He stood stiffly and silent as a stone for a long moment. Annette’s arms were burning with the fierceness of her embrace and she worried that he would pull away from her and insist that she destroy them instead. It would not be unlike him to retreat back into the false security of anonymity and distance instead of facing his fears and guilts head on. She’d planned for this too, of course—she would send them anyway. 

“I trust you, Annette,” Gilbert murmured. He raised his arms awkward and wrapped them around her back, holding her so gently that she might have been a porcelain doll he was afraid of breaking. “How could I not, after all you have done for me when I have done nothing to deserve your love?”

Her own tears began to fall in earnest now. Something had fallen into place in her world now, the last missing piece that she had been chasing since before she arrived at the Officer’s Academy. A piece that no one—not Mercedes, or Felix, or Ingrid, or anyone else—could ever have filled.

“Father…you should know that your letters made me happy,” she sniffed. “Just knowing that you were always thinking about us, that you never stopped loving us. That means more to me than any apology you could possibly offer.”

“Never!” Gilbert sobbed into her hair. “I could _never_ stop loving either of you. I swear this to be true on the name of our late monarch, His Majesty, King Lambert, and on my homeland.”

“If you swear this to be true, then I have but one final request,” Annette said quietly, loosening her arms and stepping back.

“Anything,” her father vowed through his tears. “Name it and if it is within my power, I will grant it.”

“Swear to me that when this war is over, you will first return home with me, back to Barony Dominic,” Annette said loudly and clearly under the bright sun. “Swear that you will come home with me and begin to restore our family to rights together.”

There was no hesitation in him any longer. She could see it in his eyes.

“I swear it on the name of my late liege, His Majesty King Lambert,” Gilbert vowed in a voice as clear as her own. He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed to her as though she were a queen in her own right. “As soon as we depart from Enbarr, I will return with you to Barony Dominic, as I should have done on my own so many years ago.”

Annette’s face split into a wide smile that blazed as bright as the sun above them. She threw her arms around her father again and this time, he pulled her into an embrace without any hesitation or uncertainty. All the years of failure and fresh starts fell away into memory as Annette finally allowed herself to rejoice that her father had returned home. 

“Thank you, Father!” Annette said. “I love you so much! I can’t wait until we are a family again.”

“I love you too, my darling Annette,” her father replied as warm tears splashed over her cheeks. “I look forward to that more than anything else in the world.”

_Home is where your heart is,_ Annette thought as she poured all her love into their embrace. She could not remember where she had heard that saying—she thought it might have been Felix—but it seemed fitting. Her heart was with the people she loved most in this world, and wherever they were, she knew she would always have a home. 

Perhaps now, her father understood that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay here. It's been very busy at work, and this week is shaping up to be much the same, so it's been hard to write in my downtime. I'm very pleased with how this chapter turned out :) I hope it was worth the wait! I really enjoyed the ending scene with Gilbert and Annette, personally. I think I mentioned this last time, but I really think their supports leave a lot to be desired, so I took a few liberties with it. 
> 
> Also, I made a twitter account! I'm not sure how much I'll use it, but I'll tweet new chapters out. Feel free to send ideas my way for future fics/prompts, or just to say hi if that's your thing :) You can find me here: https://twitter.com/holy_kami 
> 
> I'm working on the next chapter, but I expect it will be another few weeks before it's ready. Thank you so much for reading! <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	36. The End of the Long Road

“Say that again,” Felix demanded with raised eyebrows. “You’re not serious about this, right?”

Dimitri settled against the high-backed chair and merely nodded, his expression never changing from one of grim determination. His blond hair was pulled back into a messy tail at the back of his head so that his eyepatch was more clearly visible than usual. He looked at ease despite the weightiness of the conversation. Felix exchanged a glance with Sylvain across the table and the other man shrugged almost imperceptibly. Once he made up his mind about something, it was very difficult for anyone to sway Dimitri’s decision. He was as stubborn as a rock. It did not help that Professor Byleth evidentially supported this ludicrous idea—although even Felix rarely doubted her militaristic expertise, he put far less faith in her diplomatic abilities.

“I am sending parley terms to Edelgard,” Dimitri repeated calmly. They might as well have been discussing the day’s weather for all the nonchalance in his tone. “I am quite serious.”

“Do you really think that will work?” Ingrid ventured uncertainly. “The Emperor hasn’t seemed very interested in parley before. Will she really be willing to end the war now through diplomacy?

“It’s unlikely,” he admitted. “However, I believe it is important to understand exactly why she started this war and what her ultimate goal is. If there is any chance of ending it before we breach the walls on Enbarr, we must try.”

_Such sentimentality will get us all killed,_ Felix thought. He folded his arms and glowered across the table at Dimitri. He, as usual, pretended not to notice. _If Edelgard had any interest in a diplomatic end to this war, she would have made those intentions known long ago._

“Do you think she will actually meet with you?” Ashe asked. 

“I certainly hope she will,” Dimitri replied. He glanced at Professor Byleth who nodded encouragingly. “At the very least, she has nothing to lose by accepting the parley and much to gain if she is open to negotiation.”

“This could be dangerous,” Dedue added, frowning disapprovingly at the map spread out on the table. He was rarely in favour of anything that put Dimitri at risk—a noble, if ultimately useless, quality during a war—but even Felix could see at least half a dozen different ways this could go wrong without even giving the matter any serious thought. Dimitri could be utterly ruthless when he wanted to be, but he was also too soft-hearted for his own good. “What if she uses this as an opportunity to assassinate you?”

“Breaching a parley is a war crime,” Sylvain pointed out, though judging by the expression on his face, Felix did not think he was convinced that Edelgard would be overly concerned with this detail. “Do you really think that the Emperor would take that gamble?”

“It’s a strong possibility,” Felix countered sharply. “We have the full force of Faerghus and the Alliance to bolster our army. We’ve just taken the supposedly impregnable fortress which was their last defence before we reach the city proper. This is her last stand—if she breaks the parley truce and can scatter our army, she could still have a chance to tip the scales in her favour.”

“That’s still a long shot,” Ingrid interjected before Sylvain could reply. “Even if she managed to kill Dimitri, what then? She needs to escape from whomever attends the parley as well or kill them too, _and_ still defend the city. We have a chain of command in this army for a reason, Felix.”

“Are you offering peace terms as well?” Annette asked loudly as Felix opened his mouth to argue the point further. 

“I’d like to,” Dimitri said slowly. He paused for a moment with a faraway look in his blue eye and Professor Byleth patted his arm gently. Felix wondered if he was thinking about a past that was long dead and gone, wishing that things might have happened differently. “We may not be close, but Edelgard _is_ family. More than even that, enough people have died in this war already. It is not too late to try and save some lives.”

It was an incredibly naïve way to look at the situation and Felix could not quite hold back a disbelieving snort, but Dimitri did not react; he was used to Felix opposing his decisions. In Felix’s view, there was not much point in being an advisor to the king-in-waiting if he blindly supported every harebrained scheme he concocted. Truth be told, Felix would have given anything for a way to end the war without further bloodshed if only because it meant Annette would not have to fight. He had said as much to her mere days ago and he stood by that. She was recovering too quickly and would more than likely be cleared to participate in the siege of Enbarr. He would not stand in her way of that, of course, but nor did he like it. 

“What about the advance siege force?” Ashe asked. He pointed to the marker Professor Byleth had placed on their map during the previous session to indicate their approximate position. “Will their presence not pose a problem?”

“I spoke with Sir Gilbert before his departure about this matter,” the Professor responded calmly. “He is aware of our intentions and has orders to temporarily cease his assault once we are in position to meet with Edelgard.”

_A parley is a waste of time,_ he thought irritably. Glancing around the table, Felix was quite certain that nobody truly expected this to work, but the idealistic hope shining in Annette’s eyes was enough to convince him to hold his tongue. _It will accomplish nothing more than confirming what we already know to be true._

“What kind of terms would you consider?” Mercedes asked. She leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands, looking quite unperturbed by the tension in the room. 

“That requires some discussion with all of you,” Dimitri admitted. He paused and withdrew a crumpled parchment from within his robes. Felix briefly wondered how long Dimitri had been planning for this parley. “I made some notes of terms we would want to pursue.” 

Exchanging a weary look with Ingrid across the table, Felix slouched in his chair and stared at Dimitri with a look of resignation as he excitedly began listing off the ideas that he had no doubt been stewing over for some time. Diplomacy had never been Felix’s strong suit and attempting to maintain his concentration on a diplomatic mission that would undoubtably end in failure was all the more difficult. Ultimately, he would be ready to draw his sword and follow in the direction he was told, cutting down the enemy soldiers who stood in his way and threatened the people in this room. He might be the last Fraldarius of any significance, but the Blue Lions were his family. It did not matter how foolish Dimitri might be in his quest to bring this war to a peaceful end; it was Felix’s job to follow where he led and cut down anyone who threatened to harm him.

The hours passed at an agonizingly slow pace, and Felix’s head began to pound the longer they spent poring over a plan that had no practical outcome. In his opinion, the whole ordeal required an absurd amount of logistics. Beside him, Annette lay slumped across the table with her head propped up with one hand and her eyes fluttering closed periodically only to snap back open as soon as anyone began to debate in earnest once more. There were many things he would rather be doing right now than planning for a parley he vehemently opposed, and Felix longed to lift her out of the room into the evening away from talk of war and death. 

He stayed where he was, in the end, listening to voices he knew as well as his own and offering his own comments as necessary. He was not a diplomat, and he had no interest in this plan, but he _was_ a Blue Lion and he was to be Dimitri’s right-hand man. Their differences on the matter were not enough to justify abandoning the council at such a crucial juncture. They might have been once, before Lord Rodrigue had died and before Dimitri had acknowledged his own deep failings. Too many people had died—and too many were still going to die—for Felix to return to the man he had once been. 

_Nor do I want to disappoint her,_ he thought, glancing sideways to where Annette leaned forward with her hair spilling over her shoulders. _She deserves a man who doesn’t run away from things with which he disagrees._

“You can’t take that many of us into a parley,” Sylvain pointed out for at least the fifth time in an hour, pulling Felix’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “Two, maximum. The Emperor will be rightfully suspicious if you try to bring more than that.”

“Professor Byleth must attend,” Ingrid added. The circles under her eyes made her face look quite hollow in the fading twilight that filled the room. “So you can choose one other.”

Dimitri looked more than a little deflated by this, but he nodded and crossed out several things on his list. He paused to scan the room, his expression a jumble of uncertainty and unwillingness to agree, though he voiced no further concerns. He considered each person for a long moment, his blue eye piercing each of them to the core, weighing the risk of the mission against their usefulness in the battle yet to come. This was no time to be sentimental or to care about any of them as friends—it was essential that Dimitri see them as tools and to choose the other attendee with that in mind. 

“Dedue,” he said finally, turning in his seat to face his long-time retainer. The other man nodded as he spoke, a loyal subordinate to his king as he ever was. Felix supposed that if anyone _deserved_ this dubious honour of bodyguard, there was no better candidate. “I would ask that you accompany us on this mission. It will be dangerous, old friend.”

“You know that I will follow wherever you lead, Your Highness,” Dedue answered at once.

“It is done, then,” Dimitri said, glancing around the room once more. “Apologies for keeping you all here so late. Make your preparations—I intend to depart within the coming days. Let us not drag out this war any longer than necessary.”

There were murmurs of agreement as everyone rose and began to file out of the room. Felix gestured for Annette to go on ahead when she hesitated by the door. She smiled at him, her eyes darting to Dimitri and back again with the same calm understanding that she displayed whenever he felt the need to speak to his old childhood friend alone. It was not that Felix distrusted her—quite the opposite, in fact—but rather that there were things with which he did not want to burden her. With their shared history, it was easier to speak of such things in private. 

“Dimitri,” Felix said when they were alone and the door clicked shut behind Professor Byleth. “This plan—"

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dimitri interrupted with an upheld hand. He sighed, falling back into the chair as though all the air had been pushed out of him. “I understand your reservations about this plan, Felix, and I appreciate your concern. You have completely valid points and I assure you, I do not undertake this mission lightly.”

“I certainly hope not,” Felix muttered. He leaned against the cold stone wall and fixed Dimitri with a hard stare. “I meant what I said earlier. There’s no way to guarantee your safety and we cannot afford to lose you now. My father didn’t die so that you could throw your life away in this useless sham of parley.”

“No, he did not,” Dimitri agreed quietly. A silence settled between them for a moment before the prince spoke again, the weight of Lord Rodrigue’s death nearly suffocating them both in the small room. “It must be done, though. Even if it comes to nothing, I must try. Even Lord Rodrigue would have wanted to try to avoid more bloodshed.”

“Even so,” Felix grunted moodily. “You know it would be better—and simpler—just to kill her.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Dimitri acknowledged grimly. He laughed. It was a harsh sound and seemed almost manic to Felix’s ears. “That’s why I can’t, Fe. We’re siblings after a fashion, and enough of my family has already died. If she would listen and I could spare her life…what I would not give for that.”

Felix understood that desire, as could any one of the Blue Lions. They had all lost family during this long war, and countless friends. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides and turned his face away from Dimitri so that he would not see the loss in his own eyes. 

“All that may be true,” Felix said at last. “But if you die because of your foolish pride, know that you will have rendered all the sacrifices we made to get this far worthless.”

“I know,” Dimitri said, setting a hand on Felix’s shoulder. His voice was steady despite the warning in Felix’s tone. “I swear, I am not going to die. You will get the fight you crave yet.”

_I don’t crave the fight,_ Felix corrected him silently. Annette’s gentle laughter echoed through his mind, drowning out Dimitri’s mirthless sorrow. _I crave the end of this war._

\---

The following days passed in a flurry of activity as the army prepared to march away from Fort Merceus. Felix felt as though he were being pulled in a thousand different directions at once as his opinion was requested on everything from last-minute changes to their battle plans to travel logistics to backup plans if anything went awry with the parley as well as—to Felix’s increasing annoyance—the required amount of foodstuffs that would be needed for the journey. He snapped at the messenger who brought that last and sent the man scurrying away in a panic. Annette probably would have chastised him for the way he handled that conversation, but Felix felt little remorse.

He did not confront Dimitri again on the nature of the parley with Edelgard. Despite his misgivings, Felix knew that it was unlikely that any harm would befall Dimitri during the meeting, not with both Dedue and Professor Byleth there as well. Ingrid had pointed that out after listening to him gripe about the uselessness of the mission for most of the first morning of travel and he had wisely decided not to mention it in her presence again. Even Annette had sighed with exasperation in his arms that evening, though she did not bother to debate the issue with him. She sang instead, quietly so as to not disturb anyone nearby or draw attention to the sound of her voice. It was that, in the end, which finally eased his nerves and coaxed him to prepare for the battle ahead.

They could see the great towers of Enbarr rising on the horizon by the end of their fourth day of hard marching as the heat of the Adrestian sun beat down upon them. Felix had not realized how much he enjoyed the climate of Faerghus—or even Garreg Mach—until they had come further south than he had ever travelled before. Perhaps he was merely used to the cold winters and warm summers that seemed to pass in an instant, but Felix found that he missed home the closer they came to Enbarr.

After a week of hard travel, Professor Byleth finally called for a halt not far from the gates of the city. She had already sent advance messengers bearing Dimitri’s invitation to parley so there was nothing to do but make camp and wait for a response. The waiting before a fight was always the hardest part in Felix’s experience and he dreaded the numerous days of waiting that no doubt lay ahead of them. There were ways to pass the time—sparring, meditating, drinking, lovemaking, among others—and Felix had found the ones that worked best for him years ago among the snow and ice of their resistance against Cornelia.

“It won’t be long,” Dimitri said with an air of certainty as they gathered around the stew pot on the first night. The sun still seemed to blaze brighter and hotter than it did in the north despite the lateness of the hour. “Edelgard will not delay in sending a reply. Not after we have besieged her city and threatened her crown.”

In this, the prince was right. 

The Emperor’s response arrived swiftly the following afternoon while Felix was deep in conversation with Ingrid and Professor Byleth regarding the use of their aerial forces should the parley fail. Dimitri slapped open the tent flap and let in a whoosh of hot air into the already sweltering room. Felix opened his mouth to snap a string of obscenities at him, but the words died in his throat when he saw the look in Dimitri’s eye and the scroll in his hand. A black eagle—the symbol of the Empire—was clearly visible where the seal had been broken. 

“Well?” Felix nodded at the letter in Dimitri’s hand after a moment. 

“She’s agreed to meet with us.” The relief in his voice was almost palpable and the hope in his face was too bright. Felix averted his gaze in a vague attempt to mask his own vexation. They did not need to argue about this yet again, not now when the meeting was almost at hand. “Tomorrow at dusk.”

_That means our attack on the city would not begin in earnest until the day following that,_ Felix thought. It was longer than he would like, though not unexpected. _After that, the more difficult work begins._

“That is excellent news,” Professor Byleth clapped her hands together delightedly. “We should inform the others right away. Felix, let us continue this discussion tonight.”

She was gone out the door with Dimitri by her side before Felix could think of a response.

\---

Arrayed in twos and threes on the hilltop overlooking the valley between their encampment and the great city of Enbarr, the Blue Lions watched the parley with bated breath. Lingering apart from the others, Felix stood with his arms crossed and tried to look indifferent to the scene below. The onlookers spoke in whispers even though they could not possibly be overheard by the Adrestian retinue in the valley. A small part of him still worried that this was a trap despite it being Dimitri’s idea in the first place and the warrior in him wanted to keep watch for any suspicious movements. It was a pointless endeavour—Dimitri and his entourage were so far away that Felix would be useless to prevent a disaster even if he _did_ manage to spot it in time. He did not fancy the idea of running the remainder of this campaign in the prince’s place should this whole scheme fail as spectacularly as he had insisted it could over the last several days to an increasingly annoyed audience.

_He has the Professor with him,_ Felix reminded himself for the umpteenth time. He frowned at the dark silhouettes in the valley, still mildly frustrated that he could not properly see anything that was happening. _He’ll be fine with her and Dedue there to protect him. They wouldn’t dare allow any harm to befall him._

Even if it was true, Felix itched to be down there with them. He did not much care what Dimitri and Edelgard spoke about, but he wanted to be doing something. This war would soon be over and Felix longed to stand amidst the dead and hear Dimitri’s victorious shout ring out through Enbarr so that he could put up his blade and know that there was no further danger to the ones he loved. At least, no immediate danger; there would always be resistance to their regime, always a chance of assassination for any one of them who were close to the crown. Those were worries for a future Felix, one who would take up the mantle of Duke Fraldarius and Shield of Faerghus just as his father once had. 

Felix heard heavy footfalls across the dry grass and saw the bulky figure of Sir Gilbert come to stand a few paces away. He looked down upon the valley in silence and Felix hoped that the man would not try to engage him in conversation. He might be Annette’s father, and though she loved him far more than the man rightfully deserved, Felix held no fondness for him in his own heart. He tolerated Gilbert’s presence because he loved Annette, but he would happily never see the man again if such a thing were possible.

“Apologies,” Gilbert murmured after several minutes spent observing the dark figures below. “I do not mean to disturb your contemplations.”

Felix shrugged in response. They stood together on the hilltop, each man lost in his own thoughts as the sun fell lower over the horizon. It was an oddly companionable silence between them considering how each of their previous interactions had involved Felix snapping aggressively at the older man for the way he had treated his daughter. Gilbert had not tried to speak to him again since the day of Lord Rodrigue’s memorial and Felix had not given the man much thought since then beyond the times he attended their war councils or the few times he came up in private conversation with Annette. It was an arrangement Felix liked very much, so he could not deny the stab of disappointment he felt when Gilbert began to speak again.

“I dislike this parley,” he said grimly, stroking his chin with two fingers and frowning at the scene. The gathering darkness made the figures below harder to see and Gilbert leaned forward almost unthinkingly to squint into the valley. “I’m sure if anyone could convince the Emperor to end this peacefully, it would be His Highness, but I have misgivings about it, nonetheless. There are too many risks for an unlikely reward.”

Felix bit back the desire to point out that there was no way in Nemesis’ seven hells that Dimitri was going to successfully end this war with this sham of a parley. It was a rare occurrence that he agreed with Gilbert on anything at all. Instead, he nodded curtly and muttered “I said as much to him myself. He was stubbornly insistent on moving forward with this plan regardless.”

“Much like his father,” Gilbert said with a sagely nod. “When His Majesty wanted to do something, there was hardly anyone who could change his mind. Perhaps your father could have, being that they were so close, but even then, it was a monumental task.”

Lord Rodrigue had not spoken of King Lambert all that often to Felix, and Felix had been too young when the king died to really understand the depth of their friendship, so he had nothing to do but take Gilbert’s words at face value. He could see the silhouettes below beginning to move now, slowly turning to make their way back towards the encampment on the hilltop where the Blue Lions awaited in varying states of anxiety. The Adrestian entourage had also turned and begun moving in the opposite direction. Felix felt himself release a sigh of relief when it became apparent that they were not launching any assassination attempts on Dimitri while his back was turned. Beside him, Gilbert released his own breath and tension in his shoulders started to dissipate.

“I have been meaning to thank you,” Gilbert said quietly. His face was obscured slightly by the shadows gathering around them, but Felix thought Gilbert looked sincere. 

“For what?” Felix asked warily. He thought back through the past several weeks since they had retaken Fhirdiad for any point at which he had interacted with Gilbert, but Felix could not recall an instance where he had done anything for the man deserving of gratitude. 

Gilbert did not respond immediately. He continued to watch the figures below in silence just as the voices of their companions began to rise in volume and the excitement of seeing Dimitri returning with his entourage began to permeate the watchers on the hill. Felix waited tensely for the man to elaborate and let his hand drift over the hilt of his sword. He wouldn’t fight him—not now, not when they _needed_ him whole for the battle ahead—but the blade in his hand was a comfort when he felt threatened and unsure, even if it was ultimately useless. 

“For saving her,” Gilbert finally whispered into the silence. He looked pointedly toward the women huddled on the far side of the hill where Annette’s orange hair was gleaming brightly in the last rays of sunlight. 

The words hung between them, heavy and full of emotion. Felix followed his eyes to where she stood between Mercedes and Ingrid, both of whom paled in comparison to the brightness she carried within herself. The memory of her body laying on the stone, limbs askew and covered in blood was still too fresh. He remembered the way the light in her eyes had faded and how her voice had cracked when she tried to speak. He was powerless to tend her wounds and his own assurances that she was going to be all right rang hollow in his ears even as he spoke. It was nothing short of a miracle that she stood here now, laughing and living as though nothing had happened.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Felix finally managed to say. He was proud to hear that his voice was steady despite the way his heart seemed to pound in his chest. “And it was Mercedes, not me, who really saved her.” 

It was Gilbert’s turn to shrug. “Mercedes—Goddess bless her soul—could have done nothing if not for you. And besides,” he added bitterly, hands balling into fists at his side. “How many times did you protect her before Fort Merceus? How many other times might she have died if you had not been there to defend her?”

“She is a capable mage,” Felix countered sharply. It was not a secret that he fought beside Annette in every battle, nor that he trusted her with his life as much as the people he had known since childhood. “Annette can—and has—defended herself countless times. She’s saved me before, too.”

“Please, do not misunderstand me.” Gilbert held up his hands placatingly and turned to face Felix for the first time. “I do not mean to suggest that Annette is incapable of those things. But I know too that mages are easily overrun and few have a faithful bodyguard to defend them even at the cost of their own life.” He paused. Gilbert’s eyes were as blue as ice. “Even _I_ did nothing to ensure my own daughter’s safety in my battle. In this, as in all things, I have failed. Therefore, I owe you a debt of gratitude. You have taken on a duty that ought not have fallen on your shoulders.”

Felix was not prepared for the candidness of this conversation. He relaxed his grip on the hilt of his sword, all the tension and wariness evaporating from his shoulders like dew in sunlight. Gilbert had never displayed this kind of self-awareness in the past, but his blue eyes shone with sincerity the longer they spoke. It was the first time Felix thought that he could see the love the man held for his daughter begin to shine through in his words. 

“Of course I did,” Felix said, his voice low and clear. It was time to be honest with the man before him, for Annette’s sake. It was not as though Gilbert was unaware of their relationship. He would have to be blind and deaf _not_ to know already. “I love Annette. I would _never_ let anything happen to her if it was within my power to prevent it.”

“Spoken like a true knight,” the old man said. He turned to walk away. “I will be returning to Dominic with Annette when this is all over. As you said before, it is time to show her that I care.”

A true knight. Felix did not much feel like a knight, but he supposed that was all right. It had been his childhood dream to be a knight like Glenn, a dream that had been broken long ago. He was not at all like Glenn, nor his father, nor even Ingrid or Sylvain or Gilbert himself. Perhaps being a knight was something more than wielding a lance and riding a white horse into battle. Perhaps it was something deeper than what a dark-haired child had imagined as he sat at the edges of the Fraldarius training ground watching his older brother learn to ride a horse.

“I, too, will be visiting Dominic,” Felix said, surprising himself. The old knight paused mid-step. “I intend to ask Annette for her hand.”

It was the night before the Siege of Enbarr and anything could happen on the morrow. He watched Dimitri crest the hill several paces away and the others clamored around him eagerly to hear the news. It was not a question, but it felt right to tell him. He was still her father, after all, and Annette had always loved him.

“I will not give you my blessing” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “It is not my place. You have already been more of a husband to her than I a father.”

Felix watched Gilbert walk into the darkness for a long moment before the sound of Dimitri’s voice snapped him back into reality. He moved automatically to join the men and women surrounding the prince, all eager to hear the outcome of the parley in the valley. Annette turned and smiled at him as he approached, reaching out her hand and lacing their fingers together. Felix could not quite keep a smile of his own from tugging at the corners of his mouth. He felt a fire in his veins running from the tips of his fingers to the very tips of his toes. 

_I will protect her,_ Felix promised himself. _We will survive this last battle._

“My friends,” Dimitri said softly. His face looked more careworn than usual. “Thank you for waiting so patiently.”

“How did it go?” Ingrid demanded when Dimitri paused for breath. 

“Did the Emperor agree to a truce?” Ashe asked quickly. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation. 

The prince glanced at Professor Byleth and Dedue. Their expressions were quite impassive (not that that was particularly unusual for either of them) yet Felix could see the stiffness in their shoulders, and he knew he had been right all along. The Professor nodded curtly at Dimitri and he sighed deeply, his own expression resigned to the truth of the situation. 

“No,” Dimitri said shortly. “We fight for Enbarr tomorrow at dawn. Rest well tonight, for the days to come will be long and unforgiving.”

Annette’s fingers tightened around Felix’s so much that he startled at the force of it. Glancing down at her, Felix could see the frustration and disappointment in her eyes. Annette lived and breathed hope in everything she did. Now it was gone like smoke on the wind. There was no escaping the final battle now.

“Let’s go,” Felix whispered into her ear and gently steering her away as people began to return to their tents. “Dawn will come quickly, and we need to be ready.” 

“I was hoping there would be no more need for fighting,” Annette murmured as they walked. “I prayed to the Goddess every day begging her to avert this last battle. I can’t bear to kill any more of our friends, Felix. I’m afraid to lose anyone.”

She was the kindest person that Felix knew. He understood how it hurt her to kill old friends, no matter that they had no qualms about killing _her._ He could not protect her from the inner turmoil she faced or the pain of loss after they cut down one-time schoolmates, but he could protect her in the moment of each fight. It was what any man he knew would do for one they loved. He could try to comfort her in the aftermath when all was said and done, even though he knew he was not a soft man, that his blunt honesty all too often got in the way of his attempts to be kind. He was who he was, but she loved him for that. He knew that as surely as he knew he loved Annette.

“I know,” Felix replied quietly. He raised a hand to her cheek and stroked it as gently as he knew how. She smiled weakly at him. Felix’s heart fluttered in his chest. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I promise I will protect you. We _will_ get through this together.”

He bent down to kiss her, and the world melted away around them. Annette’s lips were soft against his and he could feel her fingers twining through his hair. He kissed her fiercely, as if kissing her like this could somehow prove the earnestness of his promise. She relaxed in his arms and although she was breathless when she pulled away from him, Annette smiled up at him with all the same pure joy she so often embodied. Felix could not stop himself from pressing an impromptu kiss against her forehead. 

“I know,” she whispered, standing up on the tips of her toes so that her lips brushed against his as lightly as a feather. “I trust you. Let us end this together.”

\---

Despite the work Gilbert and his advance troops had already done to the walls of Enbarr, he had failed thus far to actually breach the thick stone ramparts. Enbarr was a very old city, far older than Fhirdiad or Derdriu, and its walls had withstood countless battles over the past centuries of warfare and rebellion. It was common knowledge that they were reinforced with magic and meticulously maintained even in times of peace. Felix supposed that it would have looked very beautiful in the light of dawn if not for the siege weaponry battering against the city or the flaming arrows that the defenders fired back. It was the part of the fight during which Felix was entirely useless and Annette was a necessary asset.

They woke together at dawn and wasted no time grabbing their few possessions for the battle ahead before hurrying to the command tent. Predictably, Annette was whisked away to assist with the siege as she had done at Fort Merceus. Felix did not like to think of the toll this would take on her body—Mercedes may have finally cleared her to fight, but there was no doubt that her limbs were stiff from the time she spent recovering from her injuries. He was no expert in the effect of magic on the body, but he was not so foolish as to believe it was unlike fighting without properly retraining your muscles after an extended period of recovery.

There was not enough time for rest, though, and they needed her. 

The siege took nearly four days of intense attack before the royal army was able to breach the walls. A great cry rang out as the brown stone cracked and fell to the ground. It should have been invigorating, the thrill of real battle calling Felix and making the blood in his veins sing with anticipation. Between the anxiety of waiting for the fight and his unending concern for Annette’s health, Felix could not recall a time he had been more frazzled before entering the fray. When he finally saw her before Professor Byleth gave the word to march, Felix fought to keep himself from begging her to stay behind. 

“You should stay here for today,” Felix told her as the Professor made the final preparations before sending them all off to fight or die in the streets of an unfamiliar city. She would not, he knew that, but he had to try. “You look exhausted.”

“No way! I’m going into the city too,” Annette insisted stubbornly. “I’ve come this far, Felix. I need to see this through to the end.”

He understood that feeling, perhaps more than she realized. 

“All right, is everyone here?” Professor Byleth asked, her voice pitched slightly above the murmur of conversation in the tent. Reluctantly, Felix turned to face her and Dimitri at the head of the table. “Good. I think we are ready.”

“My friends,” Dimitri began, his voice calm and quietly imposing. “The time has finally arrived to end this long war. It is time to avenge all those who have given their lives to make this possible. I do not ask this lightly: fight. Fight with all your heart so that we can walk into the bright future together.”

“Take your time fighting through the streets. We need to secure the city before we can assault the palace, but that’s no excuse to rush in unprepared.” Professor Byleth advised pragmatically. “This is the Empire’s final stand, so the enemy is bound to fight tooth and nail against us. Don’t take any chances in battle and retreat as necessary.”

“We can win this,” Ashe added, his green eyes shining with pride. “We’re _going_ to win this.”

“Yes,” Ingrid agreed. She balanced her silver helmet against her hip and looked around the room at each of them. “The Empire cannot stop us now.”

“Be careful out there,” Mercedes smiled as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “We can all get through this. I’d rather not see any of you in my infirmary again.”

“It’s time,” Professor Byleth said. She grinned wickedly, a shadow of power glimmering in the depths of her eyes. She flung her arm out in a sweeping gesture. “Blue Lions move out!”

“Good luck out there,” Sylvain said to Felix in an uncharacteristically serious voice. He clapped Annette on the shoulder affectionately as he passed them. “Try not to die, all right?”

“You too,” Felix replied. “Stay safe. I don’t want to see Ingrid cry because of you.”

“No promises there,” Sylvain chuckled as he ducked out of the tent. “I’ll see you when this is all over.”

Sylvain was always one to brush off concern, but Felix could tell by the straightness of his back that he took the words to heart. There was none of the usual swagger in his walk. Once they entered the city, there was no turning back. Better to face death with your head held high than tempt fate. Annette wrapped her hands around Felix’s forearm and smiled at him, calming the storm of worries in his mind without even speaking a single word. She could read him in a way few others could.

“He’ll be fine,” she assured him as she tugged Felix into the hot sunlight. “So will everyone else. Let’s worry about ourselves, okay? We have a long way to go before the fighting is done.”

“I know,” he said. “Stay near me and you’ll be safe. I swear it.”

Annette smiled.

“I know.”

\---

It was hard to imagine what the city had looked like before war had arrived in Enbarr and soldiers gave their lives to claim it. The main streets of Enbarr were wide and bright, offering an ideal space in which to fight. Unfortunately, the white stone shone so vividly in the blazing afternoon sun that the glare made it difficult for Felix to see properly. The only thing that made their advance somewhat easier was the knowledge that most of the citizens had already evacuated the city and those who were left had locked themselves behind as many doors as possible. The battle to liberate Fhirdiad had been much more difficult simply due to the multitude of unprepared citizens running through the streets. Felix did not care if it was a soldier or citizen who got in his way, and he would cut them both down without a second thought, but not killing innocent people or worrying for their safety in addition to Annette’s made his duty so much easier. 

After over an hour of increasingly desperate attempts to force his way down the main thoroughfare, Annette pulled him forcibly toward an alleyway that was far more shaded due to the overhanging red-shingled roofs above. Felix took a moment to catch his breath and allowed his eyes to adjust the change in lighting while Annette fussed over him to check his wounds. 

“Let the foot soldiers push through the main roads,” she said quickly as she pushed his sleeve up and examined a deep cut on his wrist. Her healing magic wrapped around the wound like a warm mist until nothing was left but a faint pink line. “Maybe we’ll have better luck going this way. If we keep the palace towers in sight, we’ll always be heading in the right direction.”

Felix could hear the clang of steel ahead of them and the faint shouts of dying men. It was dangerous, but it was their job to root out the resistance and secure each quarter of the city. Danger was only to be expected.

“Stay behind me,” Felix grunted. He loped forward with careless grace, sword in hand and eyes darting from side to side as he moved. “It will be easy for the enemy to surround us here.”

The first squad of soldiers they approached were already preoccupied fighting other allied soldiers. With their backs turned, Felix jumped forward at the man closest to him and drove his blade ruthlessly down into the unprotected flesh near his neck. Blood gushed out as the man screamed in pain, but Felix felt no pity for him. He spun to block an attack from the second man just as a gust of wind slammed the third solider back against the battered door of what had probably once been someone’s home. The allied soldiers swarmed over the injured men and pressed the advantage as soon as the third man slumped onto the ground. The Adrestian soldiers were dead and around them before Felix had properly turned and dispatched of the last remaining soldier. 

“Keep moving forward!” Annette called to the allied soldiers. “Follow Professor Byleth’s orders. We must secure the city and every fighter counts in that goal!”

They saluted her and hurried off without argument. Annette had always been more adept at leading battalions, not that she had had much need to do so since Felix had become—as Gilbert said—her self-appointed bodyguard. 

“We need to keep going too,” Felix said over his shoulder. He was already moving, and he could hear the click of her shoes against the stone behind him. 

The alleyway was narrow and branched off into a twisting maze of residential homes and tiny shops. Debris littered the street, broken boxes and shattered planters, discarded weapons and dead soldiers. Chaos reigned in the city as Felix led Annette through the winding backstreets of Enbarr, and he lost count of how many enemy soldiers they encountered along the way. It did not matter how many people died, of course. Annette was safe with him; he had not allowed anyone to reach her. The innumerable cuts and bruises he sustained in this fight would all be worth it to guarantee her safety. 

Nothing, however, could have prepared them for the sheer heat of a war in Adrestia. Felix had noticed this during the fight at Fort Merceus, but more pressing matters had pushed the issue to the back of his mind at the time. Now, even in the narrow, shaded alleys of Enbarr and with the sun shining against the white stone, Felix felt his shirt soaked through with sweat and blood and his throat felt as parched as a desert. They had no time to properly rest, but Annette grabbed his wrist and pulled him back as frequently as the flow of battle allowed to shove a waterskin into his hands. 

“You’ve got to stay hydrated,” she whispered urgently. “It’s dangerous to fight like this.”

Annette was right, but Felix drank only sparingly. She needed the water as much as he did, and Annette had already spent much of her energy on sieging the ramparts with the other mages while he had sat on a rock and sharpening his blade for what had to be the hundredth time.

It was nearing dusk when the alleyway finally opened up into a square in the shadow of the palace. Empty stalls were arranged around the perimeter of the one-time marketplace Men and women fought for their lives, livery spattered with blood and the grime of war. Felix glanced across the market square and saw a burst of purple and burgundy and silver spinning with deadly grace. He knew who she was in an instant despite not having seen her in over five years. He saw allied soldiers falling around her as though they were nothing more than straw-filled training dummies. Felix respected few in battle and the ones he did had nearly all studied under Professor Byleth. 

He respected her. He feared what might happen if she struck at Annette if he were not fast enough to intercept her. 

_Our soldiers can handle this,_ Felix decided as he pushed Annette roughly back toward the main street. He hoped Annette had not seen the woman across the square. _They’ll have to handle it. We can send reinforcements, but we can’t stay—_

“Felix!” Annette cried, stopping in her tracks and pointing across the marketplace. Felix inwardly cursed the Goddess. “It’s Petra! She’s…she’s coming this way!”

“Fuck,” Felix spat under his breath. He raised his sword to block the attack and Annette took several large steps backwards. 

“You are being…Felix Fraldarius,” Petra grunted. She maintained the force of her blade against his as if waiting to see which of them might break first. “It has been a long time since we fought like this.”

“Not long enough,” Felix muttered with another push against her. Petra disengaged away from him and landed lightly on her feet. _I was hoping we wouldn’t come across anyone else from the Academy._

“Petra, please, we don’t want to fight you!” Annette shouted over the din. Felix could not help but remember that last two times she had tried to convince the enemy to put up their weapon and how it had failed. He edged in front of her slightly, his amber eyes never leaving Petra’s face. “I…don’t want to kill any more friends.”

“You are kind, Annette,” Petra replied. She did not lower her blade. “I am saddened to be seeing you here. Still, I must be defeating all of you for Brigid…and for Adrestia.”

When she sprang forward once more, Felix was ready. Petra lunged toward Annette without a hint of hesitation in her movements, leaning away from where Felix’s sword reached. He skidded between Petra and Annette with his bracer raised to block the blow. It sent several harsh reverberations through his arm that would have broken a weaker man’s deflection. Felix forced himself to remain still until the pressure of her sword lifted. He had sworn to protect Annette and he would be damned before he let Petra harm her. 

“Your fight is with me,” he snapped. “Just like old times.”

Petra turned her attention back to Felix. She did not waste any words, but her next attack was swift and decisive against him. Felix parried the blows, watching her closely for any sign of her old weaknesses. He remembered sparring with Petra in the training grounds. She had always been fast, and few others were able to match her, but Felix had always been able to go toe to toe with her in practice. It had been a long time since he had fought a duel with anyone capable of matching him blow for blow. 

_Focus,_ Felix reminded himself. Annette’s life—and his own—hung in the balance of their fight. _Watch for her to overextend her reach, then strike. Just like you’ve done a thousand times before._

Evidentially, Petra’s skill had improved since they had last sparred, and she had corrected many of her old weaknesses. They moved like caged wolves within the market square, each watching for an opening in the other to strike. Behind him, Felix could hear Annette calling orders to the remaining allied soldiers and felt the wind pick up behind him. She was never one to play at being a damsel in distress and she knew where her skills were most needed. Annette was more than capable of securing the area while Felix faced down the strongest opponent they had yet faced since setting foot within Enbarr. 

Petra dashed forward and thrust her sword toward Felix with the same straightforward motion he remembered from years before. He blocked it easily with his own blade, eyes watering with pain just as Petra’s dagger pierced his armor. He should have been prepared for that, but Felix had not even seen her draw the little blade. It was a basic tactic, one he had employed countless times himself when his foe was distracted by the sword in his hand. The pain made moving awkward and Felix knew that excessive movement would only make things worse, but Annette could not heal from a distance and Petra did not ease up on her assault. It would not kill him, but it could make him vulnerable to more injuries.

_That’s exactly what she wants,_ Felix thought grimly. He sprinted forward and slammed into Petra with such force that she stumbled backward. He managed to land a nasty gash across her sword arm, and she grimaced with pain. _Judging by the blood staining her clothes, she has already taken several wounds before we found her here._

The injury to her sword arm made Petra’s reactions slower and her attacks more erratic as she tried to compensate for the weakness of her grip. They were both breathing heavily but Felix pressed forward like a wolf looking for the kill. Not wanting to allow her the time to make a move on her own terms, Felix lunged close enough to bring his blade down in a thunderous blow. Petra raised her own sword to shield herself from the brunt of the attack and Felix took the opportunity to elbow her hard in the ribs. She gasped like a fish out of water but managed to push him away with a sudden burst of adrenaline. He had rattled her focus though; Petra’s eyes were slightly dazed and Felix allowed himself a moment of self-satisfaction.

He knew better than that, of course, and paid for his momentary inattention to his foe.

Petra moved like lightning in those few moments and caught Felix across the chest with her sword. Behind him, Felix heard Annette cry out with fear. The blade did not bite through his armour the way it had hers, but it sent Felix reeling back as he desperately tried to maintain his balance. Relying on her speed to keep Felix from landing a clean blow, Petra feinted to his left and rotated behind him, bringing her sword down in a decisive slash. Felix gasped in anguish as her attack caught him awkwardly in the shoulder. Instinctively, Felix stuck his foot out and kicked Petra’s feet out from under her. She fell backwards onto the hot stone, her sword sliding out of her grip and landing just out of her reach. Shoulder bleeding and his lip quivering with the pain shooting through his arm, Felix turned and pinned her to the ground before Petra could regain her feet. His own dagger was in his hand and aiming at her throat before he could fully register what had happened. 

“Felix, no! Please, stop!”

Annette’s voice rang out like a gong across the tiny square. Her request was absurd—Petra was an enemy, no longer a friend, and she had to die. Stopping here would undoubtably result in their deaths. He raised the dagger again, not bothering to respond. Petra stared up defiantly at him, but she didn’t struggle against his grip. Her chest heaved with the exertion of drawing breath. Her face looked wan under the setting sun from the loss of blood and the fatigue of fighting through the heat.

_“Stop!”_ Annette cried again, this time grabbing his wrist and turning her blue eyes to his. “Don’t kill her, please. I can’t bear to watch another friend die in this war.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Felix snorted derisively. He pulled his wrist out of her grip and angled it above Petra once more. “This is war, Annette. We can’t spare our enemies for the sake of our conscience.”

“Yes, we can!” Annette insisted. She waved two allied soldiers over who had been loitering near the edge of the square. “You there, take this woman into custody and send a messenger to Professor Byleth at once. Ensure her wounds are treated adequately.”

“Annette…” Petra said, her eyes softening slightly. “Felix is being right. You cannot spare your enemies. I am not afraid of dying.”

“You’re both wrong,” Annette persisted. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the two of them. “I’ll let the Professor and His Highness decide what to do with you, but I can’t stand by and watch you die. Too many people have died already in this war.”

Felix reluctantly stood up and allowed the two soldiers to pull Petra to her feet. One of them had a thin piece of rope with which to bind her hands behind her back, though Felix doubted whether she would have been able to fight the two men off in her current state. They confiscated the bloody dagger from her belt and led her away. She walked proudly, her back straight and head held high, looking almost like a queen with her escort rather than a prisoner. Petra glanced once over her shoulder to where he stood with Annette. He could see the confusion in her eyes even from a distance. 

It had been too long. She did not know the person Annette had become, could not understand what had led her to sparing Petra’s life. 

“Annette…” Felix said quietly. He _did_ know why she had done this, yet that understanding made it no less risky to leave Petra alive. 

“I had to, Felix,” Annette murmured. She stared at Petra’s back until she rounded a corner and was out of sight. “I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t stand by and watch her die.”

Felix sheathed his sword and pulled Annette into his arms, heedless of the battle still raging in the city. In their small corner of Enbarr, surrounded by blood and the cries of dying soldiers, Felix tried to comfort the woman he loved. He did so without words because he did not know how to tell her that he understood what she meant and that it would be all right. He loved the compassion for the world that burned so brightly in her heart and which tempered his own cold logic. Although he did not agree that sparing Petra’s life was the best course of action, he could not fault her for it. He might be used to killing familiar faces and one-time friends, but that did not mean he enjoyed it. It was his duty to fight and kill if he wanted to live, a duty he had known and prepared for throughout his life. Annette was different—she was kind and loving, with too deep a conscience to become comfortable with the killing. 

_Dimitri and the Professor will figure out what to do with her,_ Felix thought as Annette squeezed him tighter around the waist. Dimitri was a soft-hearted fool more often than not, and though Professor Byleth was ruthless in battle, she could be nearly as soft as Dimitri outside of it. 

Felix did not want to let go, but the battle was not over and they needed to see it through to the end. With no small amount of reluctance, Felix let go of Annette and made to draw his sword once again. He felt her hands wrap gently around his arm where the bloody gash was still oozing. As always, Annette’s healing felt warm and soothing. Felix felt his skin knit back together beneath his gear and his muscles felt invigorated with a renewed energy when she let go. It might be enough to get them through the rest of the battle. It would have to be enough.

\---

Although the fighting in their section of the city had largely stopped by the time they departed the market square, the sun was sitting low on the horizon when Felix and Annette finally approached the gate. The entrance lay wide open before them and dozens of allied soldiers frantically hurried past them into the palace grounds. Bodies lay strewn across the stones in heaps, careless of their affiliation or creed. They were dead now; the dead had no such loyalties any longer. An Adrestian body would burn just the same as any other, and there were far too many dead in Enbarr to even attempt a proper separation. 

“Is that…?” Annette whispered with a note of awe and stopping abruptly in her tracks. Her face had gone as pale as chalk.

Felix followed her finger to where a white sheet lay haphazardly over a dark-haired man. The ground around him seemed to be marred by something unnatural, though Felix could not have said what caused it. Or, perhaps more accurately, he did not want to imagine what had caused it. There _were_ some things he feared. Few people were stupid enough not to fear dark magic.

“He’s dead now,” Felix said. Times like this were best spent focusing on the facts, no matter how cold it might be. “Who else would have been guarding the way to Edelgard?”

Annette stared at Hubert’s body for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to the looming towers of the royal palace. Her blue eyes reflected a grim determination not to regret his death—a death in which she played no part—nor to take on the burden of guilt for it. He had been a truly loyal retainer to the Emperor; in Felix’s mind, it mattered not that they had once been schoolmates. An enemy was an enemy; he did not have time to waste mourning the death of a man who had orchestrated the deaths of countless others.

“We should go,” she said quietly. “The others must be here already, and they may need our help.”

The palace of Enbarr was an ancient structure. Tall pillars lined the entrance hall and tapestries depicting the history of the von Hresvelg family decorated the walls as a reminder to all who entered of the power they had cultivated. The Adrestian capital flaunted its legacy even in the poorest areas of the city with wide fountains and gilded bathhouses, and the royal palace was no exception. Even with dead men and women on the marble floor and blood spattering the walls, the palace was an impressive sight to behold. This was not the first war Adrestia had instigated, nor the first time the royal palace had been infiltrated by an opposing army, and Felix very much doubted it would be the last on both counts, but there was no denying the sheer weight of memory that the palace represented. It had outlasted countless generations in spite of the centuries of warmongering. 

“This way,” Felix called over his shoulder. There was no time to be lost now, not when the end was in sight and the war was almost won. “I hear fighting up ahead. We’re close now!”

“Lead the way!” Annette replied, hiking her skirts well above her ankles and following him down a flight of wide stairs. The reception hall was far larger than the one back at Garreg Mach and Felix fell into a loose stance as he scanned the room with his sword at the ready. He saw Sylvain locked in combat on the far side of the room with a dozen enemies, a handful of allied soldiers already rushing to his aid. Dedue and Ashe were surrounded by imperial defenders near the centre of the room, their own battalion in shambles while they fought desperately against the onslaught. Although there were too many allied corpses to count littering the floor, it was clear that this fight was nothing more than a battle of attrition. 

“Mercie!” Annette called suddenly and hurrying to an alcove near to where they stood. Mercedes was kneeling over the body of a man in elaborate Adrestian armor. “I’ve been so worried for you. What news is there of the battle?”

“Oh, Annie, I am so pleased to see that you are all right!” Mercedes exclaimed with a wan smile. She held her hands steadily over the man’s chest, a soothing white light emanating from her palms. Her usually immaculate dress was stained with blood and she had lost her hat, but she looked unharmed. “I heard not long ago that the city has been secured. There are only a few pockets of resistance left, but I believe Ingrid is seeing to those.”

“What a relief!” Annette said fervently. She dropped to her knees beside the figure opposite her friend. “We ended up taking a bit of a detour through the city, but we’re here now to help.”

“You should go, then,” Mercedes said, gesturing toward the far end of the room with a nod of her head. Annette turned her head to look, but Felix felt his eyes drawn to the man on the ground, a cold, creeping dread filling his chest the longer he looked. “His Highness and the Professor headed toward the throne room not long ago. I am sure they could use your assistance in breaking through.”

“Of course,” Annette agreed. She turned her face back to Mercedes. “What about you? Will you be safe here by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied airily, her attention now fully back on her patient. “My skills are better suited for helping the weak and injured.”

“Is that why you’re healing _him?”_ Felix growled with a disdainful look at the man on the floor. “I didn’t realize we were saving the enemy as well.”

Annette glanced down at the body between them and gasped. “ _Ferdinand?_ But why…?”

“The Professor asked me to,” Mercedes said simply. “I’d rather help people than kill them in any case, regardless of their homeland.”

Felix sighed while Annette nodded in solemn agreement. Allowing Petra to live suddenly seemed even riskier than he had originally thought. Too many of the Blue Lions were prone to sentimentality, and now at least two Adrestian warriors with ties to Edelgard’s inner council would survive long enough to plot rebellion. Felix was not so bloodthirsty that he enjoyed killing, but nor was he so foolish to believe such people could be trusted once the war was over; killing them was the simpler—and faster—solution to something that had the potential to be a long-term problem with disastrous consequences. Their survival posed a real threat to everything they had all sacrificed so much to accomplish should they prove unwilling to cooperate in the aftermath of the war.

“You should go,” Mercedes continued. “I’ll be fine, but His Highness needs your assistance. Go!”

“Right,” Annette said, standing and turning to look toward the far end of the room. Her blue eyes shone with determination. “Felix…it is time. Let’s end this now!”

He grinned in an almost predatorial way. “Follow me, Annie.”

They entered into the fray together, as they always did. Felix cut a path through the mass of enemies, his sword cleaving through those reckless enough to stand in his way. Annette followed close behind him, sending unwary soldiers into heaps on the floor where the allied army could overrun them. He could sense her desperation to end this quickly and enter into the dawn of a new world. Felix could hear her breathing coming in harsh gasps as they moved, caught her twice as she began to stumble over a body she had not noticed in her way, and understood that she was beyond her limit now. He was too, but he chose to ignore that—he had to protect her and the prince, and acknowledging his own exhaustion would only make those duties harder to carry out.

As with Fort Merceus, the palace halls echoed with the thundering cries of black beasts. The creatures toppled priceless statues and tore down countless walls as they rampaged through the fighters, both Imperial and allied alike. They moved on instinct rather than command, and Felix was once again struck by how little Edelgard seemed to care about the volatility of these weaponized beasts. They were destroying her own home with fire and claw, killing her own people as much as theirs, just as they had done so many times before.

_Beasts don’t belong on the battlefield,_ Felix thought grimly. He felt thunder gathering at the tips of his fingers and let loose a bolt so fierce that the beast ahead of them howled with pain as it fell to the ground, its forehead smoking where the cracked jewel lay embedded. _Beasts cannot win the fights that matter. Nor do beasts belong in a world where the fighting has ended._

The doors to the throne room were flung wide open by the time they successfully cut their way through the reception hall. Felix hesitated on the lowest stair and turned to regard Annette. The future seemed suddenly and terrifyingly near, and part of Felix realized that he was frightened of what that would bring for both of them. The diplomacy of reunifying Fódlan was a diplomatic nightmare, but it would be a shared burden. The mantle of Duke Fraldarius awaited him when they returned to Faerghus and all the duties that came with that loomed ominously over him like the very large shadow of his father. He knew nothing of diplomacy. He was not sure if he was prepared for using words more often than his sword.

“Everything is going to be all right.”

Annette’s voice was light and soothing. She wrapped her fingers over his sword hand and squeezed reassuringly. Felix wondered if she could read minds, or if his feelings were simply that easy to see in his eyes. 

“I know,” Felix replied. He trusted her when she said those words. He trusted her with his life. “It’s time.”

She nodded. “It is.”

The throne room was grand, full of beautiful artwork and tall windows through which the first stars were already shining. Banners bearing a black eagle over a red field hung from the rafters above. Countless candelabras burned along the path leading to the throne and cast dark shadows into the depths of the room. It was the deepest place within enemy territory, the lair of the Emperor herself. There was a time not so long ago that Felix would not have believed it possible that they would be standing here now, sword at the ready to take the life of a woman who had caused more than pain to the people of this world. Annette was the catalyst for his renewed hope and his motivation to fight through hell to reach this place. If not for her, he might have lost himself long before now.

“So you have finally arrived,” the thing on the throne was saying. Its voice was distorted, as though it were speaking from very far away and struggling to be heard. “I have been waiting for you…”

Ahead, Felix saw the others had already gathered for the final fight and he quickened his pace to join them. Beside him, Annette sucked in a breath and the colour drained from her face.

“I apologize to have kept you waiting,” Dimitri replied with equanimity. “Edelgard.”

Edelgard nodded slowly, but she looked nothing like what Felix recalled from Gronder Field. Her eyes were hollow shells, glowing ominously red within the depths not unlike the black beasts she had unleashed upon them time and time again. Her face sported grey scales in places and her body was no longer human—it was bulkier and scaly all over, as though she were a poor imitation of a dragon of legend. If not for the golden headdress and white hair, Felix would not have realized this thing was once the Emperor of Adrestia. 

“It matters not,” she replied. “You have come now. It is time to end this, once and for all.”

With that, Edelgard lifted one clawed hand and threw a bolt of dark magic straight for Dimitri. Felix—still stunned by the revelation of what Edelgard had become—was not prepared to react, and too far back to do anything regardless. Professor Byleth was not so distracted, however; she moved lithely to deflect the attack, the Sword of the Creator glowing eerily in the dim light. For his part, Dimitri did not even flinch. 

“I’m sorry, Edelgard,” Professor Byleth said with a note of real regret. “I wish things could have happened differently.”

“We all have wishes and regrets, Professor. Such things, however sentimental, are ultimately useless,” Edelgard said. She raised another clawed hand. “Facing you…I grow weak…yet I have no choice left but to fight.”

She threw another ball of dark magic and the Professor deflected it was as much ease as the first. Dimitri pointed Areadbhar toward the Emperor, his blue eye reflecting all the sorrows he carried in his heart. 

“You have been changed so far from who you once were, Edelgard. You have gone far beyond recognition in pursuit of your ideals all these long years,” Dimitri said. “I have no pity left for one such as you.”

He moved forward, tears gleaming in his eye, and swung his lance toward the thing that was no longer Edelgard with all the fury of a man who had faced his demons and continued to fight them day after day. It howled when the lance struck its scales and swiped mercilessly with its clawed hands. Felix instinctively pushed Annette further back from where they stood, desperately hoping the one-time Emperor would take no note of a warlock who had already nearly died once. He followed close behind Sylvain up the stairs leading to the dais where the twisted creature fought like a cornered beast against the inevitable. 

The creature seemed uninterested in anyone other than Dimitri and the Professor, and it ignored most of the attacks the other Blue Lions pressed against it. Each time Felix felt his blade bite into her armoured scales, he forced it through the small cracks as far as it would go and pried them off to reveal the vulnerable flesh beneath. Dark blood seeped from its wounds, and it roared with ever increasing ire each time a part of its body was damaged. Try as he might, it was impossible to avoid all of the creature’s wild attacks. Its claws burned when they raked through his armor, but Felix vowed to himself that he would not fall here. 

There was a future waiting for him.

_This must end,_ Felix thought, thrusting his blade into the creature’s body. He glanced over his shoulder to Annette and felt a burst of adrenaline fill his veins. Her robes were singed, and her legs were bleeding from the long, jagged cuts that the creature had inflicted. _For the sake of all of us living and the future we sacrificed so much to achieve, this must end!_

He did not see whether Dimitri struck the final blow against the thing that was once Edelgard, or whether it was the Professor. Perhaps they had struck it together, two Relics against a twisted demon that had no hope of victory. Nevertheless, the creature let out a horrific howl of pain as it fell to its knees before the king-in-waiting and the Professor, neither of whom looked joyous at its defeat. They had all come too far and fought too hard to feel naught in the moment of victory beyond pure exhaustion.

“Edelgard…” Dimitri murmured. “It is over.”

The dark magic that clung to her body and twisted her form began to dissipate into nothingness. Somewhere beneath all of that, the real Edelgard still existed, her body weak and decaying, but her fiery spirit still burning even as her life force ebbed. Dimitri waited patiently with his head bowed and the bloody tip of Areadbhar lowered at his side. Edelgard was his final loss in this long war that had been brewing since the events of Duscur. Felix could understand some of that sorrow, even if he could not share in it. It felt somehow wrong to witness that loss and the weight of this new grief settling on Dimitri’s shoulders. There would be time enough in the coming months and years for them to grieve their losses together. 

Felix turned without another word and reached out his hand to Annette. 

Together, they walked out of the Imperial throne room and into the new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm...alive? Yes, I'm alive.
> 
> I apologize for going MIA for so long. Work had been brutal for the past...6-ish weeks. I've been so mentally and emotionally exhausted that writing in my evenings was impossible most nights. I've been trying to do little bits here and there, but it's been a tough time lately, as I am sure it has for everyone. I'm happy to finally have this one done and boy, it was a lot of work.
> 
> I'm really happy with how this one turned out, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I will admit, I struggled with whether to kill Petra and Ferdinand vs allowing them to survive, and I bounced several possibilities off of my usual sounding boards (a BIG thank you to all of you!) and finally settled on the latter. I tried to keep the pacing appropriate for the length of this chapter (12k+ words!) so alas, I could not show all of the major fight and death scenes. I'm anticipating that there will only be 2-3 more chapters, so I have tentatively set this to 39 total. Soon we will be done, and then it'll be on the next fic! 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the long-winded note! I've missed you all so I hope this chapter was satisfactory :) Many thanks for your patience and for reading! 
> 
> Love, Kami


	37. Walking Together With You

The city of Enbarr, imperial capital of the Adrestian Empire, was embroiled in chaos.

It was unsurprising, of course, given the circumstances of the past week, but it hurt Annette’s heart to see the people of the city suffering. Although many civilians had evacuated the city before they besieged it, people were now beginning to swarm back in droves to find their homes and businesses smashed and looted in the aftermath. She knew that Dimitri hadn’t wanted that to happen and that Professor Byleth had left strict orders that none of those activities ought to occur, but it was impossible to prevent such a large force from doing as they wished in battle and the immediate aftermath. Nor was it an easy task to determine the individuals responsible for these crimes and bring them to justice. There was simply too much to do and not nearly enough people to do it all. 

For her part, Annette had been assisting with healing the injured soldiers with Mercedes, as was her custom after their battles. Despite the victory, their army had sustained heavy losses in the attack. Even with their best efforts, many more were still likely to die of their wounds. That did not account for the injured enemy soldiers whom Dimitri had ordered cared for as well. Though not as many, they barely had the resources—or the energy—to heal their own wounded, much less the survivors of the opposing faction. 

“It’s too much,” Annette said quietly to Mercedes during a rare moment of rest one afternoon. “My body is aching and my head is pounding. It’s hard to focus.”

“I understand,” Mercedes replied gravely. She never complained about the work or the toll it took, but Annette could see it in her eyes. They were bloodshot and her skin was pale with exhaustion, both signs indicating that she was well past the point of overwork. “You should go and rest. We have the imperial healers at our disposal—they can handle things for now.”

That was true, but they were a sullen lot (not that Annette could blame them for it) and so she naturally distrusted their commitment to their work, especially when it came to their own injured soldiers. 

“At least I had a rest last night,” Annette pointed out instead. It was probably closer to two nights ago by now, but the days blurred together so much that it was hard to keep track of the time. She did not want to sleep anyway. Sleeping meant dreams of the dead and waking with the guilt of war running down her cheeks. “If either of us ought to rest, it should be you, Mercie. When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine,” Mercedes lied easily, ignoring the question entirely. Annette wondered if she was trying to avoid her own nightmares. “Don’t worry about me. There isn’t much else you can do here right now anyway, and if you faint from fatigue, you may not be able to help at all for a long time.”

Annette glanced around the room. Petra’s bed had been vacated earlier that morning once she was pronounced fit enough to be moved elsewhere and would no doubt soon be given to another patient in need of it. She assumed their old schoolmate would be placed under guard in one of the cells below the palace with other prisoners of war. Ferdinand, on the other hand, lay sleeping under the window looking quite pale. He was no longer lingering on death’s doorstep, but it was unlikely that he would be leaving the infirmary for some time yet. She still had not heard the full story of what happened to him in the battle, but judging by the extent of his wounds, it was clear he fought hard against the invading army. Mercedes had spent much of her time at his bedside attempting to nurse him back to health. 

“I’ll be all right,” Annette said lightly. A basket of soiled rags sat by the door and spools of bandages sat haphazardly on the edge of nearly every available table. Countless bottles of healing ointments—everything from elixirs to vulneraries to popular Adrestian-made salves and more—littered the tables and floors. Some wounds did not require magical resources to repair, so there was always surgical implements to sanitize and basins of water to be changed. Annette could think of a dozen other things that needed to be done too. She could not leave yet. “I’ll see to the laundry first—we’re low on clean rags and I’m sure we probably needed them hours ago.”

“Such is the life of a healer,” Mercedes chuckled. She didn’t press the point that Annette should rest. “I’ll finish up here and meet you in the other room later.”

Annette gathered up the basket and made her rounds through the other areas of the infirmary looking for others to add to her basket. The actual infirmary wing was not large enough to house all of the wounded soldiers, so they had spilled over into several adjoining rooms—lesser halls mostly that once had been used for entertaining a small, elite number of guests. The laundry rooms were situated not far from the infirmary and so it wasn’t long before Annette deposited a basket piled high with dirty rags beside a large, shallow washbasin and began to scrub them clean. The laundresses shot her curious glances every time she arrived, but Annette supposed that was only natural—even while doing menial tasks, she knew she did not look like a servant. 

The looks didn’t bother her and nor did the work. She infinitely preferred doing something as simple as washing rags rather than waking each morning and wondering if she would have to fight for her life again. Although it would undoubtably take a long time, Anette knew she could handle the guilt and the grief of the war, that she would be able to come to terms with the things she had done. She hated fighting and killing—there was no pleasure in a life spent on the warpath. Even for men like Felix and Dimitri—who fought like demons and never shied away from a challenge—there was a limit to how much you could take before the weight of those actions broke you. 

She tried not to think of those things while she worked. It was hard to keep the memories of the dead from invading her private thoughts when she was alone and it made tasks like laundry all the more inviting. Even assisting the injured was a reprieve from the sorrow. She had to focus on something— _anything_ —to keep her mind busy. 

_I’m not the only one,_ Annette thought as she scrubbed a particularly difficult stain more thoroughly with the soap. _Everyone is looking for ways to keep busy._

She knew Ashe and Dedue were spending much of their time in the city itself assisting with the rebuilding effort. The people—innocent citizens caught in the middle of a war not of their design—were suffering for the ideals of the nobility with all they had ever known smashed to pieces. It was cruel and unfair, but who would stop to help the weak if not they themselves? In the chaos of war, the remaining nobility vied for a secure position in the new regime and soldiers waited for new orders. Mercenaries would depart in search of new wars to fight and in the end, there was no one who would pause to help the common folk.

_I should be out there helping them too,_ Annette berated herself, not for the first time. She carefully spread the wet rags out on a stone table and summoned a small glow of fire with which to dry them. It was a shortcut that did not require her to beg use of the drying racks by the fire from the laundresses. _I’m sure there are civilians who could use my healing magic._

Annette allowed herself to feel inadequate as she folded the rags and carefully set them back into the basket. The work she was doing was just as important, after all, and it was not fair to leave it all to Mercedes. If she knew her friend at all, she was sure that the other woman wanted to be out in the streets as well. As Annette gathered up the basket and headed back to the infirmary, she tried not to think about how neither of them had had the time or energy to visit the people and offer their help in the first place. 

It felt like an excuse no matter that it was true. 

\---

Three weeks after the fall of Enbarr, Dimitri called a meeting to discuss the future of the empire.

Annette had been awaiting the summons with no small amount of curiosity after Felix mentioned it in passing several days earlier. They had not held a proper meeting since before their attack on Enbarr began in earnest almost a month ago. With no shortage of work to do, there was no time to waste on something so bureaucratic. Dimitri had enough of that as he dealt with Adrestian nobles and rich merchants daily and Annette frankly did not have the patience to focus on politics at the time. There would always be politics in the world, but without someone to mend wounds and wrap bandages, many would never have had the chance to see those things come to fruition. People, she had always thought, should matter more.

“My friends,” Dimitri said, waving his hand slowly in a sweeping arc toward them all. He looked exhausted, but no less imposing for it. He had put aside his armor and opted instead for a light shirt and pants of a loose linen. They were of an Adrestian fashion, loose and flowing to better circulate the air around the body, and Annette thought that it was nothing short of genius given how bloody hot it always seemed to be. “We have accomplished everything we set out to do that night at our reunion. It has been a long, hard road since then. I could have done nothing without your support. Allow me to offer my sincerest gratitude for everything you have done and sacrificed in the name of our cause.”

He paused for a moment as they exchanged embarrassed glances.

“I’m so very glad we succeeded,” Mercedes said sweetly. Her smile was as bright as the stars. “It was a long road, as you say, but I urge all of us to remember that there is still much that remains to be done.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Ashe agreed, smiling back at her. The Adrestian heat seemed to agree with him and he had taken to wearing loose clothing similar to Dimitri’s, but he had never looked so alive than when he returned to the palace after a long day of working alongside the poor and downtrodden of Enbarr. “There are still many people who need our help. Ending the war was only a small part of the work that lay before us when we started this journey.”

“Indeed,” Dimitri murmured, inclining his head toward the two of them. “I could not agree more. I believe Edelgard had good intentions despite the way she went about achieving them, and on a personal level, I want nothing more than to extend the hand of friendship to those who need it most.”

“It won’t be easy,” Ingrid sighed. “The people of the Empire don’t trust us. Many are unwilling to accept a ruler of Faerghus and believe in the ideology that the late Emperor championed throughout her reign.”

“Many of those people are nobles and the elite middle class,” Dedue pointed out reasonably. “Those are the people His Highness and the Professor will be working with most frequently. The general populace is much different as such ideology cannot be implemented in the same way for them. They may distrust you at first, but with perseverance and kindness, they will accept the help that is offered to them.”

“We can’t give up just because it’s hard,” Mercedes added. “We would never have come this far if we did that.”

Beside her, Felix nodded very slightly in agreement. He was generally rather standoffish during discussions such as this, preferring to let others who were more “people-oriented” and “nice” to handle the decision making. Annette thought Felix did not give himself enough credit—he could be very kind those around him and he never turned away someone in need, but he often seemed awkward and unsure of what he ought to do whenever it did not involve a sword. Feeling her eyes on him, Felix glanced at her curiously after a moment and Annette smiled at him. 

“We need a plan,” Ashe said after a moment. He blushed faintly when all eyes turned to him, but when he spoke again, his voice was full of steady confidence. “It’s not just the people of Enbarr either. We left Fhirdiad long before affairs were properly settled and Derdriu was in a bad state too when we departed there. People in all of Fódlan need help now that the war is over.”

“Chancellor Sephiran is seeing to the reconstruction efforts in Fhirdiad and elsewhere in Faerghus,” Dimitri assured him. Beside her, Felix snorted somewhat scathingly but the prince ignored him. “And I arranged with the Council in the Leicester alliance to take control of the reconstruction efforts in that region. There is a small Faerghan force there to ensure our interests there are not forgotten, but it is a token force only.”

“All well and good,” Sylvain interjected quickly. “But Faerghus especially needs to see their prince return in glory from a successful mission abroad. They need to know their suffering wasn’t for naught and that you care about them.”

“By that logic, you could say the same about the Leicester Alliance,” Felix countered before Dimitri could respond. “Claude abandoned them and their whole national identity has been tossed aside in favour of rejoining with the kingdom. Even if the Council did agree to this, I doubt the rest of the people living there will accept this change as easily.”

“And what of Garreg Mach?” Ingrid added, her brow furrowing slightly. “We have begun reconstruction efforts since it became our base of operations, but now that it isn’t needed for that purpose, what will happen moving forward?”

“With regard to Garreg Mach,” Dimitri interrupted quickly, his own face flushing for no discernable reason. “We need not worry. Our dear Professor Byleth will be returning there for the time being to assist the Church of Seiros with reorganizing.”

_That is not surprising,_ Annette thought as several people murmured quietly at the news. She glanced at the Professor but the woman’s face was nearly as impassive as the day they met. It was hard not to wonder what she felt about the change. _She was very close to the Archbishop and Seteth. I can’t imagine there would be anyone else they would trust with the reconstruction efforts and reorganization of the Church._

“How is Lady Rhea doing?” Mercedes asked gently. It felt like she was prodding an open wound. “Has she been resting well?”

A shadow crossed Professor Byleth’s face. For a moment, Annette thought she might not answer.

“She is resting as well as can be expected. As you all must know, the Archbishop underwent very serious trauma at the hands of the Empire over these past five and half years.” She paused and sighed. Annette felt her heart break slightly at the grief in her green eyes. “It…it will be a very long time before she heals completely.”

_She might never heal completely,_ Annette thought, hearing the unspoken fear behind the Professor’s words. Her fingers grasped the fabric of her skirt with unnecessary force as the memory of Lady Rhea in imprisoned by manacles and her body covered with cuts and bruises came flooding back. She had gone with Mercedes and the Professor to release her from the cell in which she was held and abused for so long, but only Mercedes had been treating her since then. It was a miracle she had not already died of her wounds or lack of sustenance when they found her. _After everything she went through, I would not blame her._

“Garreg Mach could not ask for a better leader during this uncertain time,” Ingrid offered gently after a moment of silence. “If there is anything we can do to assist you, you have but to ask.”

“That takes care of that,” Felix grunted. He had no great love for the Church, but Annette knew the state of the Archbishop had shook him greatly. She supposed Lady Rhea’s wounds were all too reminiscent of Glenn and Lord Rodrigue for comfort. “Garreg Mach, however, is the least of our concerns. The Adrestian Empire lacks a leader, and if we leave here, all our fighting will have been for naught as soon as the first rebellion happens. And believe me,” he added in a half-snarl. “A rebellion _will_ happen.”

“Must you always be so dour?” Ingrid complained. 

“I’m being realistic,” Felix snapped. “There has never been a war where the losers meekly accepted their new overlords. It would be foolish to leave this place without establishing proper control, but we cannot afford for Dimitri to linger here for too long either or we will begin to see uprisings back home. Probably in the Leicester region as well.”

“Felix is correct,” Dimitri agreed placidly. “I do intend to remain in Enbarr a while longer yet to ensure the city is solidified in our control before returning home. We will need to appoint an appropriate regent who will uphold our interests and manage potential insurrections with all haste. A similar process will occur in Leicester.”

It was hard to imagine what the world would look like when all of these changes were implemented. Annette wondered how long it might take for the people of Adrestia and Leicester—and even Faerghus, who had suffered equally as much as the others—to adjust to the new world order and whether it would cause more fighting as Felix believed. Even the Church of Seiros, an organization with a long history as the very centre of religious life in Fódlan, was changing to accommodate the new world. How many people who had spent their lives praying to the Goddess and revering Archbishop Rhea would feel lost and forsaken as the Professor and Seteth endeavoured to steer it into a new age? People often acted out of fear, and Annette could not blame people for fearing the changes to the social, political, and religious structures that they had known throughout their lives. 

“Sending for someone from the royal court to relocate to Enbarr will take a long time to coordinate,” Sylvain pointed out. “And with all due respect Your Highness, do you really know _who_ in your court you can really trust for a post with that much responsibility?”

“The obvious solution,” Dedue said quietly when no one responded, “is that one of us should remain here. At least until a suitable replacement is found.”

“One of us?” Annette repeated in surprise. It was an interesting thought and a possibility that she had not considered. The very thought of remaining behind in a foreign country to ensure the kingdom’s interests were protected felt extremely daunting. 

“Ridiculous,” Felix spat at once. “We require someone trained in foreign policy and experienced in negotiation at the very least to step in as a regent.”

“I concur,” Ingrid said, shaking her head vigorously. “It’s an important post and requires someone with adequate knowledge of the region to have any hope of success.”

“I will send for someone in Faerghus to travel here with all haste,” Dimitri cut in. He sounded perfectly calm in spite of the debate. “I have some candidates in mind, and I trust that the Chancellor will provide his utmost assistance in the matter. You have all done enough as is—it is time that you return home to your families.”

_Home._

The prospect of returning home to Barony Dominic was both thrilling and suddenly disheartening at the same time. On the one hand, Annette longed to see her mother again and assure her that she was perfectly safe, that _everyone_ in Fódlan was safe now from the ravages of war. For years, she had dreamed of bringing her wayward father home to his family and proving to him that he was loved _because_ he was fallible. She was so close to life she had dreamed about since the day he vanished from their lives that she could not possibly consider staying behind a minute longer than necessary. Home was a long journey north, after all.

Yet there was a large part of Annette that felt sad knowing that this was the end of their time together as the Blue Lions. After spending months together on the warpath and working to secure a bright future, it felt strange to think that they would all soon return to their own lives, wrapped up in all their own personal problems. She knew they would see each other again—there was no question about that after the bonds they had developed—but not spending each day and night together was a bizarrely bittersweet prospect.

“Let’s adjourn here for today,” Professor Byleth said kindly. She smiled at them and she looked almost childlike in her happiness. “You should all begin preparations to return home. The work will never be done, but there is work to be done in Faerghus as much as anywhere else. Take this opportunity to begin settling into the new lives you have built not only for others, but for yourselves as well.”

\---

The events of the day had passed in a whirlwind of activity and excitement as the thought of returning home began to really sink in, and Annette was no exception. She had immediately gone to find her father to arrange the details of their departure and then wrote a letter to her mother with the tidings of their coming. It would be sent on the morrow with the rest of the post going northward—Dimitri sent new correspondences to his court in Fhirdiad nearly every day as it were, and one more letter would not be a burden. By the time she had finished these tasks and attended a modest supper with Ashe and Ingrid, the stars had begun to twinkle against the dark sky and Annette found herself too tired to stay any longer. 

Excusing herself politely from the conversation—which had veered off toward the history of famous Adrestian knights over an hour before—Annette headed back through the long corridors of the palace until she arrived at the room she shared with Felix. He was not there when she entered (unsurprising, as he tended to return late and leave early) but some time alone with her thoughts was exactly what she needed. It felt like there was little enough time for quiet contemplation in the weeks since the fall of the Adrestian Empire, and there definitely had not been any opportunity to consider the future that lay beyond the walls of Enbarr with any degree of certainty. Before the Professor and Dimitri dismissed them to return home, Annette had only thought about her place in the new world in vague terms. 

_Mercedes asked me once what I would do when the war was over,_ Annette thought as she shrugged out of her dress and pulled on an Adrestian nightgown. It was lighter than most of the ones she owned back home where only the deepest summer was anywhere remotely comparable to the heat of Adrestia, but she loved red and gold threads that were a favourite of imperial seamstresses. _I didn’t know what to tell her. I still don’t have an answer, even now after all we’ve gone through._

Her purpose in life—her reason for enrolling in the Royal School of Sorcery and then at Garreg Mach—was purely an avenue to bring Annette closer to her father so that she could convince him to return home. After years of failure and uselessness, and months spent on the warpath to save the world they knew and loved from a sure end, she had finally succeeded in her dream. Her father was departing for Barony Dominic with her within a fortnight and her family would be whole again. She had worked so hard for this day and shed so many tears on her journey that the reality of it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. 

Taking a seat by the open window, Annette leaned against the sill and stared at the waning moon hanging in the clear Adrestian sky. With the achievement of the one goal that had always kept her going through the good times and the bad, Annette felt more than a little lost. How did you begin to reconcile yourself with a new reality in which you had no clear picture of your own place? She was a veteran of the bloodiest war in recent memory and a master warlock, but her other skills, ones that young ladies of other noble houses would have been perfecting since childhood, suddenly felt incredibly lacking. 

“No time for self-pity,” Annette muttered. Pushing the thoughts away and vowing to give the matter some honest consideration another night, she stood and rifled through her sack of belongings until she found her favourite notebook. Previously, before the world had changed, she had only scribbled down a few incomplete lines of poetry during her recovery in Fort Merceus. Since then, there had been no time to continue the hobby, and Annette had not felt particularly inspired after long days spent nursing the wounded back to health to attempt to write anything at all.

It took some time before the words began to flow freely. Pure creativity was a solace from the stress of daily life that Annette had not had the time to pursue though she had missed it. The first several verses she wrote were silly, much like the old ditties she made up on the spot as a teenager and although they were cathartic, they were also unsatisfying. Perhaps it was because she was older now or perhaps it was because she was too full of raw emotions and guilt to take real, unadulterated pleasure in the simplicity of the words. Regardless of the reason, her writing soon turned to something more reflective and if the words did not come as easily, they did feel more honest.

_Perhaps Mother will put it to music,_ Annette thought some time later when the moon had risen higher in the night sky. She tapped the quill against her chin pensively. Many of the words had been blotted away and replaced with synonyms in varying degrees of legibility. _If it turns out, at any rate._

“Annie? Are you all right?”

“What?” Annette asked, raising her eyes and turning toward the door. She hadn’t heard the latch, but evidentially Felix had arrived a few minutes earlier judging by the look of concern in his eyes. “Sorry, I was in the zone.”

“Ah,” he said, eyebrows raised. He kicked off his boots and set them neatly against the wall. “A song?”

“Sort of…” Annette mused slowly. “But I’m not sharing, so don’t ask. It’s not ready yet.” 

Felix looked somewhat disappointed, but to her relief, he did not ask any further questions. Instead, he stretched out on top of the quilted bed, arms looped behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He pulled out the scrap of leather holding his hair back in its usual tail before he spoke again.

“When are you leaving Enbarr?”

“In a fortnight,” Annette said, turning back to her writing. A warm breeze ruffled through her hair and she was suddenly acutely aware of the thin nightdress. “What about you?”

“Probably about the same,” he answered after a moment. “I have to help Dimitri finish a few things relating to the army before I go anywhere. I’m damned sick of this heat though.”

“Do you really think there will be a rebellion here?” Annette asked. She thought that when the war was won, the fighting would end. “Here or in Fhirdiad?”

“Absolutely,” Felix replied without hesitation. “It’s unavoidable in Enbarr, even if it doesn’t happen for a few years. As for Fhirdiad, that all depends on Dimitri. He will need to spend a lot of time rebuilding his relationship with the nobility and the people. Winning this war will help with that, but he cannot afford to be careless.”

“He’ll have you and Ingrid and Sylvain to back him up though, right?” Annette pointed out. “Your name holds a lot of sway, after all. People will listen if you show your support for him.”

Felix sat up and shrugged, a frown creasing his brow. She realized now that he had discarded the shirt he had been wearing and Annette tried not to stare. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “A lot of good a house with no one left will do him. You know me well enough Annie, I’m not particularly good at diplomacy. My father’s word might have meant something, but he could do more than just shove a blade into a man’s flesh.”

Realizing now that she was not going to finish her poetry tonight, Annette set aside her quill and closed her notebook. The room was growing darker as the candles burned low and the pale moonlight drifted in through the open window. Felix watched her cross the room, his amber eyes burning like fire, and looking rather more vulnerable than he usually did. She knew he tended to worry about his future as the last Fraldarius, especially since he felt more comfortable on the battlefield than in a council chamber. Nevertheless, his place in the world was surer than her own, and Annette had no doubt that he would be an excellent advisor if only he put the effort in.

“No one is asking you to be your father,” Annette reminded him gently. She slid onto the bed beside him and Felix wrapped his arm around her shoulders wordlessly. He felt warm and smelled like the citrus soaps that were readily available in each bathhouse throughout Enbarr. “You just have to be yourself. Dimitri needs _you,_ not whoever you think you should be.”

“It sounds easy when you say it like that,” Felix said dryly, though his eyes flashed with amusement this time and the shadow of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He kissed the top of her head and Annette felt her face flush red, her whole body relaxing against him. The world felt right when they were together, and all of her own worries seemed to fade slightly when Felix was near. 

“It _is_ easy,” Annette murmured, pulling his arm tighter around herself. “You’ve known Dimitri since childhood after all.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Felix said at length. “Like you said, I can’t always fight my way out of things. This is the way life is going to be now. More talking, less killing.” She heard a low rumble in the back of his throat and realized that he was chuckling. She could listen to Felix laugh with such genuine happiness for the rest of her days. “Besides, you and Ingrid will be around to keep us all in line anyway.”

Annette’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I’m…not an advisor to Dimitri,” she said carefully after a moment. She did not turn her face to look at him, afraid that he might see too much in her eyes even in the dim candlelight. “I don’t doubt that Ingrid will have her hands full with all of you, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, sounding surprised. He pulled his arm away and sat back to face her fully. The frown was back, and Annette was filled with the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss it away. “It wasn’t just me that got Dimitri this far. You don’t honestly believe that Dimitri would forget about you once he ascends to the throne, do you?”

“Well…” Annette bit her lip nervously, dropping her gaze to her hands. She clenched the fabric of her nightdress tightly in her fingers, trying to find the right words to explain her fears through the jumble of feelings that were threatening to burst out whether she willed them to or not. “It’s just that…our barony is only small with no real influence in anything. Don’t forget that my uncle sided with Cornelia—”

“Annette,” Felix interrupted sharply, his concerned expression becoming one of exasperation. He took her hands in his and held them tightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dimitri isn’t going to forget you, or Ashe, or Mercedes, or anyone else. You’re kidding yourself if you think your barony will remain insignificant in the politics of Faerghus any longer.”

“But—” Annette protested somewhat shrilly.

“I’m not finished,” Felix cut across her, glaring at her with some of his old grumpiness. “As for siding with Cornelia, do you really think Dimitri gives a damn about that? It made sense given the circumstances during Imperial control, and more than that—Dimitri trusts you. We all trust you. No one here believes your family sided with Cornelia for any other reason than survival in a turbulent time. No one is going to hold that against you or your family.”

Annette stared at Felix in mild shock. It was not where she had thought— _hoped_ —that the conversation would be going, but the look in his eyes was earnest and his words were equally as reassuring. He still had not released her hands, was still willing her to believe that what he said was true. The heady scent of oranges seemed to fill her nostrils and Annette found it difficult to cling to her fears the longer Felix gripped her hands in his. He had a knack for bringing her back down to reality when she needed it most, and if she was not able to completely let go of her worries, a part of her relaxed with knowledge that he sounded so certain.

_He really does sell himself short,_ Annette thought, unable to look away from him. _He say’s he’s no good with people, but that’s not true at all. He’s blunt, but that’s better than tiptoeing around the truth and leading someone into a lie._

“I really hope you’re right. My uncle has no heirs, so the barony will be mine to lead one day,” Annette whispered. She felt her heart beating quickly in her chest, unsure of whether that was from the pressure of a role for which she felt unready or because Felix was too close to her now, their noses nearly touching. “Even if what you say is true, I don’t know the first thing about running a barony. I only know how to write essays, cast spells, and kill people.”

“That’s completely untrue,” Felix whispered back, their noses gently brushing back and forth. “You are the smartest woman I know. Give yourself a break and just enjoy your time with your parents. The rest will come in due course, whether you want it or not, but even so…I know that you will be ready for it.”

His lips were warm and tasted faintly of wine. Annette slid forward onto his lap, lacing one hand through Felix’s long hair and the other around his shoulders and forgetting entirely about politics and family. They existed in a world of their own devising, one where they were merely a man and a woman who loved each other, where there were no responsibilities nor feelings of loss or fear, a world where status did not matter. She kissed Felix slowly, nipping his lips playfully and felt her veins fill with the stirrings of desire when he moaned gently beneath her. Annette felt him pull out the tie binding her hair back and the other somehow pulling her closer against him as if he were afraid that she might disappear from his arms. 

Felix pulled away breathlessly, face flushed pink and eyes smoldering in the half-light of the room. His hair was hanging loose about his shoulders and Annette was struck once more by how handsome he was in the darkness. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her cheek, leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline and down her neck, punctuating each with a teasing suck against her skin. It was too gentle for the red marks to last past dawn, but Annette gasped with pleasure all the same as his lips travelled over her skin and his hand slid the strap of her nightdress off her shoulder. 

“Felix…” she murmured. It was hard to think clearly through the scent of him around her and with the feel of him holding her close. 

“I know,” he whispered, against her neck, still kissing her. She never wanted him to stop. “Don’t worry, Annie. I won’t.”

He always knew what worried her, and Felix never pushed her for more than she was willing to offer. Annette understood that all of this—everything that they had done together since he had kissed her under the moonlight in Fhirdiad—was new to him as well and he had his own hesitations when it came to love. She felt no need to rush, not when their love was still as delicate as a freshly bloomed flower still in its infancy. It needed to be cultivated gently, with kind words and sweet kisses, creeping toward the edges of arousal and testing the boundary carefully with each experience. There would always be time for more, Annette realized, if what Felix had said before was indeed true.

She raked her fingers gently through his hair, leaning her head back and exposing her neck more fully. He kissed her more forcefully now, his calloused hands tracing endless patterns over her body.

“I love you,” Annette murmured, her legs tightening around his waist as he kissed her over and over again. Felix never seemed to tire of that, and nor did she. 

“I know,” he whispered, looking up at her with bright eyes. His lips were swollen from kissing her, but she could tell he was hungry for more. “I love you too.”

Disentangling herself from him, Annette pressed her lips to his and began a trail of feather light kisses down his scarred chest, lower and lower until he could speak no more.

\---

It was a small retinue that departed Enbarr under the hot sun of Horsebow Moon. 

Only Ashe and Sylvain had elected to depart with the others for home. In a decision that surprised absolutely no one, Mercedes announced her intention to remain behind and see out her duty to the weak and injured who remained in her care. Ingrid had assured Felix and Sylvain that she would be following behind them within days via pegasus and no one expected that Dedue would leave when Dimitri was staying behind. Bittersweet though it was, Annette reminded herself that it was not a permanent parting; the war was over, after all, and they were alive, if not quite whole. 

No one had many personal possessions, but Dimitri insisted on sending the group with plenty of food and fresh water. He entrusted a small pouch of gold and silver coins to each of them, in the hope that they would need not make camp each evening and instead choose to avail themselves of inns along the way. It would be a much simpler and faster trip than journeying with an army, and although they would undoubtably stand out in an inn anywhere in Adrestia, they were well armed and only a fool would consider making trouble. Between Gilbert leading them and Felix trailing behind at the end—neither of whom smiled in the other’s presence—they appeared to be an imposing bunch.

They took a detour through the outskirts of Aegir and Bergliez territory to avoid seeing—much less stopping in—Fort Merceus. There were too many bad memories of the place and Annette was relieved to know she would never need to return. Still, knowing that it was near made her scar ache dully as they rode as though there was a part of her very spirit that would somehow remain in that place until the day she died. It was a sobering thought, knowing that she had been so close to death. It had been sunny that day too, she recalled, a day where she had been so full of hope and brash certainty that all of them would be safe. 

Although still comfortably warm, the weather became cooler as they approached Garreg Mach, a blessed relief from the intense heat of southern Fódlan that neither she nor Felix had quite adjusted to during their time in Enbarr. As she gazed up toward the high peaks surrounding the place she had called home during the most tumultuous time of her young life, Annette realized that she would sorely miss the familiar corridors and grand halls that she knew as well as the back of her hand. Garreg Mach held many memories for her that Annette held close to her heart. It was where she had found her father after years of fruitless searching and where she had made the best friends she could ever have imagined. 

It was where she had met Felix, too. She had kissed him here atop a tower under the stars.

Despite the memories, they had not intended to linger in Garreg Mach longer than a night, not with the constant tug of home pulling them ever forward, but the knights insisted on throwing a celebratory feast for the weary travellers before they continued on. It was a kind gesture, not one easily refused, and in her own heart, Annette was glad for the delay. She longed to return home, to throw her arms around her mother again and return her family to the way it always ought to have been, but upon leaving the Monastery, it would not be long before her path diverged away from Felix’s. It was selfish to want to stay with him when she knew that he had his own matters to attend to at Castle Fraldarius, his own life to lead that did not always involve her, yet she wanted it anyway.

So it was that two nights after they arrived at Garreg Mach that Annette found herself sandwiched between her father on her right side side and Felix on her left, and feeling like little more than a too-short barrier between the two men she loved. Her father was a naturally taciturn man and spoke little enough to Annette herself, preferring to keep his own confidences close to his heart. Felix, on the other hand, simply radiated dislike for the other man like the sun radiated heat and held his tongue only to avoid yet another altercation with him. 

“It was _chaos,_ ” Ashe explained excitedly for at least the fourth time that evening. Five different knights leaned in closer to hear him recount the events of the Battle of Enbarr, each with expressions of rapt attention. For his part, Ashe seemed to flourish under the attention; he had always been an excellent storyteller. “You couldn’t move two steps without encountering an enemy, and the glare from the sun off the buildings made it difficult to see where you were going—”

“I am going to retire for tonight,” Gilbert murmured in Annette’s ear. She jumped a little in her seat and he looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean to startle you. We should depart early tomorrow, so…”

He let the sentence die, perhaps unsure if he ought to implore her to rest or if that would be overstepping the bounds of a formerly-absent father toward his adult daughter. 

“I’ll be ready,” Annette promised, smiling. “Good night, father.”

Gilbert smiled back a little awkwardly, opening his mouth to speak and closing it again. It occurred to Annette that this would be their new reality for many years to come yet, each of them feeling afraid of saying the wrong words and walking on eggshells as they learned how to be a family again. She wondered how her mother would react upon seeing her husband again after the better part of a decade spent abandoned by the man she loved. She wondered how her father would react, knowing that he had wasted so many years wallowing in guilt and hurting his family more with each day that passed where he chose not to return home. Annette had always known it would not be an easy fix, but the closer they came to Barony Dominic, the more she fretted over the multitude of things she could neither foresee nor control.

Perhaps it was her own discomfort in stewing over the future that alerted Felix, or perhaps it was simply that he, too, did not wish to remain in the stuffy dining hall surrounded by knights he barely knew and with whom he no interest in conversation. He cleared his throat slightly to get her attention and nodded discreetly toward the door across the room. To anyone else, he would have appeared incredibly bored as he slouched in his chair and glared sightlessly across the hall while people chattered around him. Annette could see the pleading look in his eyes, silently imploring her to leave. 

He could have gone on his own. Felix continued to stare at her, waiting silently for her to rise.

She stood as gracefully as she could, careful not upset her half-full goblet or overturn her chair. A few knights bid her goodnight as Felix cast them disdainful looks over her shoulder and Ashe waved enthusiastically without missing a beat of his storytelling. Felix followed behind her like a lurking shadow and practically growled at Sylvain when he raised his eyebrows suggestively as they passed. Annette stifled a giggle and kept walking, gathering her skirts—an Adrestian style sewn with fabric of green and gold—so that he had no choice but to follow her out into the warm night. 

“Finally,” Felix complained as they descended the steps toward the pond. “I’ve had enough of blathering knights for tonight.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy,” Annette giggled. She hurried to the edge of the water and peered at her reflection. It was too dark to see any fish even with all the stars out to brighten the night. “Ashe was doing most of the talking. I didn’t hear _you_ adding anything to the conversation.”

“Of course not,” Felix muttered. He folded his arms and his face appeared beside hers in the water. “Ashe had it under control.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, patting his arm gently and smiling. “You don’t have to explain it to me, I was getting bored too.”

Felix looked relieved at this information. “Did you…” he began uncertainly. “Did you want to go for a walk…or something?”

The grounds of Garreg Mach were quiet so late at night without students hurrying through the halls to study or to find a lover hidden in a dark corner. Annette had never engaged in the latter—though she had known many others who had—but she had never felt so much like a normal couple until the moment she slipped her arm through Felix’s and walked beside him through the familiar courtyards. She could remember daydreaming about this very thing frequently over the years, convincing herself over and over again that it would never be possible, that he would never be interested in a woman who tripped over her own feet and sang stupid, childish songs to herself when she thought she was alone.

“I’ll miss this place,” Annette said as they walked. The late summer breeze was warm against her skin. “It feels like home, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Felix said with a shrug. “It’s better than an empty castle, at any rate.”

“That’s true,” she agreed somberly, squeezing his hand tightly. “I know it will be hard at first but…it will become easier as time goes on. After all, when something is empty, all you need to do is fill it up again!”

The words were out of her mouth before Annette realized the implications of what she said. Felix stared at her with unblinking eyes, his expression unreadable in the darkness surrounding them and Annette felt her heart stutter in her chest. How did you fill something like a castle without a family? No amount of money or power would make the place warmer or fuller. It was hardly a wonder that Felix dreaded returning to a life of diplomacy now that the war was over—he was left with the memories of a family dead and gone and a home with no laughter or music to fill its halls and role in the world for which he believed himself unsuitable. 

“Ingrid and Sylvain live nearby,” she hastened to add, her laugh sounding painfully forced to her own ears. “They’ll keep you company. Dimitri too, I’m sure, so it won’t be empty for very long!”

“You’ll visit too, won’t you?” Felix asked in a bit of a rush, apparently oblivious to her inner turmoil.

“Me?” Annette repeated quickly. “Certainly, if you want me to come.”

“Of course I want you to come,” he replied, sounding incredulous and stopping in his tracks. They were wandering through the courtyards behind the entrance hall now, among the flowers blooming in late summer and under a night not unlike the one where she had confronted him on top of the highest tower. Felix tightened his grip on her hand as if to emphasize the words. “Why would you ever think otherwise? Have these last months together proven nothing?”

“It’s not that!” Annette assured him in a slightly panicked voice. “I just…I don’t want to presume…”

“You can presume,” Felix said, his eyes shining in the starlight. “I want you to…come to Castle Fraldarius...anytime you like. The gate will always be open for you.”

It was not quite what she was hoping to hear, but she would not scoff at an open invitation from the man she loved. 

“I will, then,” she said, smiling again and raising a hand to caress his cheek. “The next time I head to Fhirdiad, I will visit you too. Perhaps you will have time to visit Dominic as well in the future? It is lovely in spring—”

“Annette,” Felix interrupted gently. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Annette asked after a heartbeat’s hesitation. Her heart began to pound in her chest and her stomach swooped at the words left her mouth. 

_He just said he wants you to visit whenever you want,_ she reminded herself inwardly, trying to regulate her breathing and failing. _It can’t be anything bad. Maybe he’s going to…_

“I’m not leaving with you tomorrow,” Felix said quietly. He looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m staying here for a few days to make arrangements to have my father’s body returned home so that he can be properly buried beside my mother and brother.”

“Oh, Felix,” Annette cried, pulling him into a hug. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the way his own heart beat too quickly in his chest. “Of course, I understand. I am sure that Lord Rodrigue would want nothing more than to be laid to rest at home with his family.”

“I have to work out the details with the monks here,” he whispered into her hair. Felix wrapped his arms around her tightly, clinging to her as though he was afraid that he might fall apart without Annette to anchor him. “It’s taking longer than I expected. There will probably be a small service for the internment. I’d like you to be there if you don’t mind.”

“I would be honoured,” Annette told him. She stood on the tips of her toes to press a kiss against his lips, light and sweet.

“I’ll send a formal invitation to you when I’ve sorted out the details out with my steward,” Felix continued, sounding relieved once more. He paused, looking hopeful in the gathering darkness. “You will write to me again, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, and added, “As long as you write to me as well.”

“I will,” Felix promised. 

He leaned down and kissed her slowly, his tongue tracing the shape of her lips until Annette felt her mouth slacken beneath his. She sighed contentedly into the kiss as Felix ran his free hand through her hair and gently led her toward a nearby bench nearly hidden by overhanging ivy. Pulling her onto his lap, Felix kissed her urgently, as though he intended to make up for lost time before she had even departed. The fire was blazing in her veins now and Annette leaned deeper into the kiss, silently offering the comfort of her love as Felix drank in the taste of her. It felt wonderful to be desired, to know that he would miss her while they were separated and that he wanted her to visit the old, empty castle that was his home so that he would not be always be alone.

\---

The journey to Barony Dominic was the easiest part since they had left Enbarr. It was nearing the end of Horsebow Moon and the warm weather was beginning to give way to cooler air. Annette had not been alone with her father for an extended period of time since long before the Tragedy of Duscur and travelling home together was the first real test of their newborn relationship as father and daughter. He was often uncertain around her, prone to bouts of self-pity and self-blame for all the evils of the world, but Annette would not have asked for anyone else in the world to be her father. Sometimes, when he thought she was not looking, Annette would catch him smiling as he watched her, looking more human than he had in years. The lines on his face seemed to lighten when he forgot to hate himself.

As they approached the gates of Barony Dominic, Annette felt a flare of trepidation in her chest. She glanced at her father, his greying hair swaying in the breeze and his mouth set in a thin line He stared straight ahead like a soldier heading to the gallows, ready to face death and accept his fate. For a man who waded into battle without a second thought for his own life and never the slightest fear of death, it was almost comical how frightened he looked now. It was a battle he had been avoiding for a decade. She could understand his fear. 

_There are so many situations where you can’t simply battle your way out,_ she thought, remembering the words she had told Felix mere days after meeting him. He had learned that lesson, just as she had learned that there were times where she had no choice but to fight. _Father…you cannot avoid all the battles that you don’t wish to face._

Annette loved her father, but this was a battle of his own making and her sympathy for him was limited.

As they crossed the threshold of the manor, Annette squinted toward the front door and saw two figures standing like statues on the wide porch. There were planters full to bursting with ferns and flowers of orange and yellow, but her father seemed unable to see anyone other than the woman waiting for them to arrive. He gulped audibly as their horses drew nearer, his hands tightening around the reins and his entire body going rigid in the saddle. If his wife or his brother noticed, neither of them acknowledged it. 

“Mother!” Annette cried, leaping down from her horse and throwing her arms around Lady Dominic. “I’m home now. I missed you.”

“Annette, my darling,” her mother cried, tightening her own arms around her daughter so that Annette could barely breathe. She held her for what seemed like ages, as if she were afraid to let go. “I am _so_ glad that you are safe. My darling girl, you’re finally home.”

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Annette murmured. There would be time enough later to recount everything that had happened since she fled this house under the cover of darkness. She wiggled out of her mother’s embrace and turned to Baron Dominic. “Uncle, I am sorry to have disobeyed you. I hope I did not cause you an undue trouble.”

“Annette,” Baron Dominic sighed, shaking his head. He looked older than Annette remembered. “I’ll have none of that. It is enough that you have returned to us safely.”

She nodded and stepped back, turning instead to face her father. He stood like a statue, his face expressionless in every aspect save for his blue eyes which betrayed his nervousness. He glanced from his wife to his brother and back again, unable to settle on a place to stare that did not feel intrusive and with nowhere to hide. He was not a small man, but under the cold gaze of his wife and the scornful stare of his brother, Gilbert seemed to shrink. As far as family reunions went, Annette thought that this was probably the most uncomfortable one she had ever experienced. 

“Mother,” Annette began, her voice clear and steady. She had worked too hard for this to allow it to fall apart within mere minutes. “I told you once long ago that I would bring Father home. I told you that I would reunite our family if it was the last thing I ever did.” She paused but her mother did not look at her. She stared at Gilbert with unblinking eyes and he, finally, did not dare to look away. “I have fulfilled that promise today. I have brought Father home.”

She did not know what to expect of this meeting. Her mother had spent years grieving for the loss of the man she loved, had learned to cope with the inescapable feelings of abandonment and worthlessness that Gilbert had thrust upon her when he put his duty to a dead king before his duty to his living family. Annette did not know if her mother would—or could—forgive the man standing before her for all that he had done. Neither did she know if he deserved forgiveness; for all his insisting that everything he had been doing for the last ten years was his way of atonement, none of that had had any impact on the family he had left behind. 

“So you have returned after all, Gustave,” Lady Dominic said. Her voice had no inflection whatsoever, but her dark eyes were like ice. “And not of your own accord.”

Gilbert chewed his lip, silent in the face of his wife’s cold wrath. 

“I do not know where to begin with you,” she continued, her eyes narrowing as if she were examining a particularly complex piece of music. To Annette, her mother looked like a queen, secure in her kingdom and unafraid to dole out punishment where it was due. Gilbert seemed to wither under gaze, but she was ruthless in her anger. “Do I start by sobbing and telling you how I much I am still hurting by your actions? Do I begin with Annette and explaining to you how your actions shattered her childhood?” 

“I—” Gilbert began, his voice breaking even as his wife raised her hand to silence him.

“Do not speak,” she commanded, her tone level. The ice in her eyes flashed warningly and he snapped his mouth closed. “I do not want to hear your excuses or your apologies. I don’t know if I will ever be ready to hear them.”

It broke Annette’s heart to hear those words from her mother, but she understood the pain that she had endured all these years and she could not blame her for that. Even if by some miracle her mother eventually listened to her husband and agreed to work towards repairing their relationship, Gilbert’s actions were a scar that would never fade from their lives. A naïve, young Annette had thought that bringing her father home would be a like a panacea for all of the pain and suffering he had caused by his leaving; an older, more jaded Annette knew that such a thing was impossible. All she had given him was the chance to make real amends; she could not force her mother to accept them. 

“Come,” Lady Dominic said, her voice softer now but her eyes no less frosty. She turned toward the door and gestured for Annette to follow. “Despite my anger, you are both weary from the long journey home and it is poor manners indeed to keep you on this doorstep. Let us away to enjoy some refreshments and perhaps, Annie, you will be so kind as to tell us of your time with the royal army?”

“Certainly,” Annette agreed, falling in step behind her mother beside Gilbert. His eyes were downcast, and she could see the telltale signs of useless regret in his expression. Reaching out her hand, she grasped his calloused fingers between her own and squeezed reassuringly. 

_She’s angry now,_ she tried to convey. _She’s hurting. I’m with you, and I want us to be a family again. I’m not giving up, now or ever._

Annette was not sure if her feelings reached Gilbert until he squeezed her hand back.

_I know,_ he said, as they strode side by side into the manor to rebuild their home. _I won’t either._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few weeks at work have been kind to me and left me with extra time to do some writing! So now we are one step closer to the end :(
> 
> I have been thinking about Gilbert's return home since...well, since very early on in this fic and I found it difficult to settle on an appropriate outcome. On the one hand, I want nothing more than for Annette and her family to live happily ever after, but on the other, it didn't feel realistic for her mother to simply welcome him home as though nothing happened. Hopefully, I struck a good balance between the pain and hope for the future. 
> 
> I've already begun working on the next chapter, and I'm outlining a new fic for these two lovebirds :) Once we're done with this fic, I hope to post some one-shots too, as I have several WIPs in various states of completion. I don't want to rush the end though, so I'm going to take a few more chapters to close out that last few items I have in mind before I dive into anything else fully. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always! You all make me smile with your kind words <3
> 
> Love, Kami


	38. The Light in the Darkness

As Felix predicted, the castle felt colder and emptier without his father there to fill the space with his presence and his inane banter to which his son only barely paid attention at the best of times. It was the first time Felix had returned home since the death of his father and, aside from a handful of letters with his steward, the first time he had interacted with the staff as the new lord of the castle. He rode through the high gate alone, straight-backed in the saddle and a look of grim determination on his face, hoping that it would deter the onslaught of belated sympathies from the legion of servants and guards employed at Castle Fraldarius. Felix had endured enough of that at Garreg Mach and in Fhirdiad to last him a lifetime, and he was not eager to repeat the experience. 

He ought to have known better.

No sooner had he reached the entrance and dismounted from his steed than he was accosted by a flurry of servants armed with sympathies and questions. Two of them took his saddlebags and carted them into the depths of the castle while a loitering stable hand grabbed the reins out of Felix’s open palm and began to lead his horse away. Left with nothing but the sword hanging at his hip, Felix realized he was standing before his steward and most of the senior servants of the castle, heads bowed and all wishing him murmured condolences. He had thought that the grief of his father’s death had subsided, that he had already moved past the feelings of anger and loss that had defined the days and weeks immediately following the events at Gronder Field, and found quite unexpectedly that he was wrong on all counts. 

“Thanks,” Felix grunted, attempting to shoulder his way through the crowd and up the wide steps leading into the castle. He wanted nothing more than to disappear for the rest of the afternoon, locked securely behind his bedroom door where no one would be able to speak to him or offer any further sympathies for his loss.

“Your Grace,” Canas said, catching up to him easily and holding several rolls of parchment against his chest. Despite the streaks of grey in his hair, his face looked surprisingly young to Felix considering he had been the steward of Castle Fraldarius for as long as he could recall. “Apologies for bothering you so soon upon your return, but your uncle has requested to speak with you right away.”

“My uncle?” Felix repeated stupidly. He had forgotten that Lord Rodrigue had appointed his rather eccentric brother to running the Fraldarius territory in his absence, and Felix himself hadn’t even seen the man since Glenn’s funeral. “Why?”

Canas frowned and adjusted his monocle as the heavy doors swung shut behind them.

“I believe there are matters regarding the estate which your uncle would like to resolve as quickly as possible to ensure a smooth transition into your control,” he said in the tone of a man explaining something very basic to a child who seemed rather slow on the uptake. “Not the least of which is your father’s possessions.”

Felix wanted to say that he had no interest in his father’s things and that his uncle could surely handle that without any input from his nephew just as he had handled everything else since the day Lord Rodrigue had travelled to Ailell. The thought of discussing the distribution of everything his father owned made Felix’s stomach twist uncomfortably and he desperately wished he could devise some sort of excuse to avoid the encounter altogether. Canas stared at him pointedly, his eyebrows arched and lips set in a thin, disapproving line across his face, as though he could hear these thoughts crossing through Felix’s mind. He wanted to tell the steward to leave him alone, wishing that he was still the son who could shrug off the responsibilities of adulthood so long as his father was there to shoulder the burden.

“Understood,” Felix muttered, steeling himself to withstand another wave of grief. Unlike at Garreg Mach where his friends and comrades had been there to pull him through the pain, he was utterly alone within the walls of the castle— _his_ castle, Felix inwardly corrected himself. “Lead the way.”

 _This is only the first of many diplomatic meetings,_ he realized as they walked through the silent halls of the castle. It was not quite the sort of things he would be doing in Dimitri’s name once he ascended the throne, but it was a close approximation. _My first test where I can’t use my sword to solve the problem._

Canas led him to the study where Lord Rodrigue had spent the majority of his time managing the affairs of Fraldarius territory and matters of state as his position demanded. Felix felt a cold chill creep up his spine as he entered the room. It looked exactly as it always had, parchments stacked haphazardly on the desk and the sun shining in through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the family portrait that still hung on the wall. In spite of himself, Felix glanced at it and felt his heart clench in his chest to see his father’s familiar features looking down on him, knowing that he would never come walking into this room again. 

_I am the only one of us left,_ Felix thought bitterly, staring now at his mother’s face. She looked kind and gentle in the portrait, and for lack of his own recollections of her, Felix liked to think she had been exactly that. He wondered if he would forget what his father had been like in life as the years passed, forgetting him just as he had forgotten his mother. He couldn’t quite remember what Glenn had looked like before he died either, nor even the sound of his voice. 

His uncle, Alain, a spindly man with thinning hair and sharp, dark eyes that were all too reminiscent of his brother’s, sat at the desk with a pair of spectacles falling down his nose. With Rodrigue raised to rule Fraldarius and act as the right hand of the king, his brother had been free to pursue the arcane studies he so enjoyed in a small coterie of like-minded men and women. He had never possessed the skill with a blade that his brother had, and he had never shown much interest in the grand affairs of the world. Felix remembered him as a kind man, if rather absent, who had never married and always remembered to send birthday gifts to the castle. 

“Ah, you’re here now, my boy,” Alain said, looking up when Felix entered. His gaze apologetic was he pushed aside the letter he was writing and clasped his hands in front of him. “Sit, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure you’ve had a tiring journey.”

“I have indeed,” Felix agreed, trying not to sound petulant as he sank into a cushioned chair across from his uncle. He was a man now and the lord of this castle; he had a responsibility to uphold, and it was not his uncle’s fault that he did not want it. “How are you, Uncle?”

“Well enough, thank you for asking,” Alain said briskly, his eyes still apologetic. “I _am_ sorry for asking to see you so soon upon your return, but there are a number of affairs I would like to sort through with you as soon as possible.”  


“Better to get on with this now,” Felix muttered, crossing his arms.

“Yes, well…” Alain cleared his throat and unfurled a thick scroll with a broken seal of House Fraldarius. Even from where he sat, Felix could see his father’s neat script running across the page. “I’ve handled what I can without you, but seeing as you’re inheriting the castle and my brother’s possessions, I do want to walk through those things together before I leave here. There are also a few items relating to staff contracts, grounds issues, and Fraldarius soldiers that we should discuss.”

“Let’s start with that last,” Felix said, feeling more confident in his ability to manage the Fraldarius army than anything else that his uncle had mentioned. “I can give some good estimates on the losses we suffered since my father travelled to Ailell.”

They spent the next several hours working through the various tasks of running the duchy of Fraldarius, and Felix wondered if he had ever taken the time to appreciate just how large the territory was; indeed, he was certain he had never given his father enough credit for how well he ran it while raising his rebellious younger son alone. Although he spent the majority of his time away from the castle, Alain was as practical as his brother and as thorough in his work as Annette was with her studies. Felix wondered if that was a trait all mages shared, but as he lacked the time to ponder it, he pushed the thought aside and refocused his attention to the issue at hand. 

A servant came bearing wine and a plate of cold meats and cheeses late in the afternoon. Alain set down his quill and eagerly took the jug from the woman’s hands.

“We’ve made excellent progress,” he announced, pouring two cups of wine and passing one to Felix. The door clicked shut somewhere behind him as the servant left the room. He wondered if he would end up like his father and spending most of his time behind the study’s closed door. “Really, it’s just Rodrigue’s things left to talk about, but I doubt that will take much time at all. Most of it is yours, after all.”

“Fantastic,” Felix grumbled without any outward indication that this news was anything of the sort. “Surely you would like some things of your own to remember my father by, Uncle?”

“I’ve already taken the items Rodrigue bequeathed to me in his will,” Alain said kindly, gesturing to the scroll in front of him. “Of course, I would not be offended should you wish to verify—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Felix interrupted. His uncle could take the whole castle and he wouldn’t have batted an eye. More than that, he had no reason not to trust his uncle’s word. “I just…”

“Felix,” Alain sighed, his eyes sad now and folded his hands together on the desk in front of him. “It’s all right to find this difficult. In truth, that is part of the reason I wanted to do this right away. Once this is over, you won’t have to worry about it again.”

It was a kind thought, one that Felix hadn’t expected. He supposed that there were many things he had not expected, and there would only be more as he embarked on the next chapter of his life. 

“Thank you for your concern, Uncle,” he replied after a long moment. His heart was beating calmly in his chest and Felix was pleased to hear that his voice did not waver. He was strong enough to battle his way through every obstacle to bring peace to Fódlan and defend the life of the woman he loved. That meant that he was strong enough to settle the final affairs his father had left behind with his death. “I am perfectly well to continue.”

“Suffice to say Rodrigue left me a number of baubles and tomes that he thought I might find useful for my research,” Alain said gently. “And a few other items of sentimental value only. To you, of course, he left everything else. The estate and staff fall into your care, as does the army, stables, territory, and all other aspects of the duchy which we discussed earlier.”

Felix nodded grimly. It was quite overwhelming, but he did have an extremely competent steward in Canas to help him get a grip on things. If things went well, he might one day have a wife with whom to share the burden. If she said yes—and Felix was very sure she would—Annette would be infinitely more competent at this administrative work than he could ever hope to be. It was a thought for later time, however, and Felix set it aside while Alain continued.

“Of your father’s possessions, he did not call out very many specific things.” Alain adjusted the spectacles on his nose and peered at the parchment. “He did say that his collection of weaponry is to be yours, as are his three horses and the hunting dogs.”

“Figures,” Felix cracked a wry smile. “He knew me well, it seems.”

 _He knew me better than I realized,_ he thought as his uncle chuckled into his wine. 

“The only other thing Rodrigue mentioned specifically were your mother’s possessions” Alain went on after his laughter has subsided, a faint smile still on his face. 

“Mother’s possessions?” Felix repeated blankly. He had been too young when she died to really know anything she had owned. In fact, most of what he knew of her were faint memories and stories Lord Rodrigue had told him and Glenn before they were old enough to not want to hear them any longer. He had never once given a thought to anything she might have left behind. “I didn’t realize Father kept her things. I inherited a few small trinkets from her as a child and well…”

Not knowing what to say, Felix fell silent. Alain nodded empathetically.

“Yes, yes,” he said gently. “I understand, trust me, I do. You were much too young to think overmuch about how her affairs were settled after she passed, Goddess bless her soul. As it happens, other than some of her artwork that Rodrigue kept in the castle, most of her remaining things are books and jewellery. She was, as I recall, both an avid reader and collector of fine jewels.”

“I see,” Felix said after a pause. He was not sure what to say, as he had no need of either books or jewellery. 

“The books are mainly fictional and Rodrigue packed them away after her death,” his uncle said quietly. “I imagine it was difficult for him to see them and likely he never found the time or heart to put them out again. You can have Canas bring out the trunk if you wish to go through them, he knows where it is kept.”

Felix nodded, still unsure of what to say. He knew of only three people that would have any interest in fictional tales, and thought perhaps if Annette visited, she might find them of more interest than himself. She would read anything so long as it captivated her attention, and that typically allowed him time to stare at her without being noticed. It was an arrangement he liked very much, and Felix would never turn down an opportunity to watch her in her element. 

“As for the jewellery, I expect you don’t have any use for it yourself,” Alain went on. “I am sure you could sell the pieces if you wish, though if I may be so bold, I would advise you think carefully before you make that decision. I believe your mother’s engagement ring is included in the collection—”

“Her engagement ring?” Felix interrupted suddenly, leaning forward as the thought struck him that he hadn’t yet considered the most pivotal part of asking for Annette’s hand in marriage. “It isn’t buried with her?”

Alain shook his head, looking rather taken aback by Felix’s sudden interest in his mother’s ring. “No, it’s an old Fraldarius heirloom. She entrusted it back to Rodrigue before she died in the hope that it might one day go to Glenn’s wife and remain in the family. Obviously,” he added sadly. “That did not happen. Rodrigue didn’t say, but I am certain he would have given it to you if you decided to marry someone.”

Felix stared at Alain without really seeing him, his mind racing to comprehend that he hadn’t given much thought of procuring a ring before this point. There was a distant part of his mind that _knew_ he needed a ring, but Felix had continually put off worrying about that until he was ready to travel to Dominic. In all fairness, he was perfectly aware that even if he _had_ considered this aspect of a proposal, he wouldn’t have had the faintest idea what kind of ring to buy in the first place and Annette had never worn much jewellery. Felix was not sure if that was because she disliked it or because they had been on the warpath for the better part of a year, but ultimately her lack of accoutrements left him without any indication of what she might like.

“Felix?” his uncle prodded gently. His dark gaze was as sharp as Rodrigue’s ever was. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing,” he replied too quickly. He paused for a moment, but the question burned on his tongue. “Where did Father keep these jewels?”

Alain stared at his nephew for a long moment, eye sparkling in a way that he could not remember his father’s doing. He stood stiffly from the chair, padded over to the door and stuck his head out, speaking too low for Felix to hear. When he returned to his seat, Alain smiled benignly and refilled their glasses with the sweet wine. 

“I’ve asked Canas to bring them here,” his uncle said lightly, eyes still sparkling. Felix felt his face flush under his gaze. “Well, some of them anyway. As I understand, the late Lady Fraldarius was quite the avid collector of beautiful pieces.”

The steward appeared fifteen minutes later bearing a small chest. Canas set it gently on the table and produced a small, battered key from within his robes. It opened with a small _click_ to reveal a selection of beautiful jewels that Felix had never imagined existed in the house. Even to his untrained eyes, he could see these pieces alone were likely worth hundreds of gold pieces each, perhaps more. Canas set the little key on the table and excused himself from the room, though Felix barely heard him.

“I never realized that my mother…” Felix began, looking up at his uncle. There were many things he didn’t know about her, the very least of which was that she loved jewellery. 

“Young men aren’t typically very interested in their mother’s accessories,” Alain laughed. “You were much like your father and I when we were young, interested only in fighting and knighthood.”

“I suppose I can’t deny that,” Felix muttered, dropping his eyes back to the chest in front of him. It was overwhelming, and Felix was not certain he could have named every piece of jewellery in the chest.

“This one,” Alain said, pointing to a ring in the centre of the box. “Is the engagement ring passed down through the Fraldarius line for generations. My own mother bore it and, as she had no daughter of her own, passed it to your mother when Rodrigue married.”

The ring he indicated was surprisingly delicate and, sitting amongst so many other shining jewels, it did not stand out at first glance to Felix’s eyes. There was a single diamond in the centre of the ring while several smaller ones lined the band. Felix picked it up in his fingers to examine it more closely, slightly nervous that he might somehow manage to break it. He tried to imagine it on Annette’s finger, to visualize how it would shine in the light, accented by her own beauty. Felix was hardly a romantic, and he knew absolutely nothing about jewellery, but a small voice in the back of his head insisted it was beautiful and that it would suit Annette better than a larger, more ostentatious ring. His uncle watched him with sharp eyes, a smile across his kindly face and waited for Felix to speak. 

“It is quite lovely,” Felix said truthfully. The words sounded woefully inadequate, but it was all he could think of to say. He was still imagining it on Annette’s finger and realized with a start that he liked the thought of it.

“It is yours now to do with as you please,” his uncle said kindly. “Whether you wish to sell it—and all these others—or offer it to a lady you love, the choice is yours.”

 _Annette…_ Felix thought, turning the ring over between his fingers, hardly hearing his uncle’s words. _Would you accept this if I offered it to you?_

He could not be perfectly certain until he asked, but Felix felt a flare of confidence in his chest as he dropped the ring securely into his pocket.

\---

_Dear Felix,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. My family is…well, things are not perfect, of course, but we are making progress. My father has occupied himself with his carvings and in properly training our house guard, if for no other reason than to keep busy. I hope this isn’t too candid, but it will be a very long road to forgiveness, though I cannot blame my mother on that. He broke her heart when he left us; I love him, but this is a mess entirely of his making._

_As for me, things have been much the same as they were before. My uncle has been training me to take over the rulership of House Dominic. It isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be—it’s all arithmetic and logic, kind of like a complex spell that I haven’t quite mastered yet. To your other question—yes, I have been writing some songs. Maybe I’ll share them with you when they’re finished, if you promise not to laugh! I have also been working in the gardens with my mother. You should visit next spring when the flowers are in bloom, I promise that you won’t be disappointed._

_We also have received your formal invitation to your father’s internment service with your last letter. Please accept this note as an acceptance from myself, my mother, and my father. My uncle sends his regrets as he will not be able to attend. We were already planning to travel to Fhirdiad to witness Dimitri’s coronation, of course, so the timing works out nicely (I’m sure you planned it with Dimitri this way, right? It feels like something he would have insisted on!)_

_I miss you, Felix. Keep safe until we meet again, all right?_

_Love,_

_Annette_

\---

Winter arrived during Red Wolf Moon in a swirl of cold wind and snow and with it came time to bury Rodrigue beside his wife and son. 

Ever since he had taken up residence back in the castle, Felix had thrown himself into the work of running a duchy while simultaneously arranging to host an interment for his father and preparing for Dimitri’s impending coronation. With a representative of Faerghus now established in Enbarr, the prince had no further reason to delay his triumphant return to Fhirdiad, and Chancellor Sephiran had immediately proceeded with arranging his formal ascension to the throne of a unified Fódlan. Dimitri, however, had indicated in numerous letters on no uncertain terms that he did not want to miss the interment and the Chancellor had not wanted to delay the coronation any longer than absolutely necessary. As such, they had reached a compromise to hold both events within three days of each other. 

Felix had not had much say in the planning, not that he cared overmuch; the Chancellor confirmed the timelines for the events, and it was his job to ensure things proceeded accordingly, at least as far as the burial was concerned. The work kept him busy, and if he was not his father, Felix slowly came to the realization that he was entirely capable of living the new life that fallen on his shoulders. With Canas’ support, he sent formal invitations for the service to all of the important nobles of the realm and close friends of Rodrigue (which, as it turned out, there were a large overlap) and the few people Felix himself wished to share the grief with him. 

When the day came to bury his father, Felix stared at his reflection in the mirror and drew in a deep, steadying breath. He knew guests had been arriving all morning, mainly minor nobles who had warranted an invitation, but he had not yet gone down to greet any of them. There were always letters to read and contracts to negotiate, after all, and hardly enough time to do them all, not that Felix had bothered with much of that today. Instead, he spent the morning dressing for the burial and staring at the ring glinting on his dresser. It seemed to sparkle more brightly today, as though it were somehow laughing at him. 

There hadn’t been enough time for the tailors to sew him new clothes for the burial _and_ new robes for the coronation, and Canas had convinced him that the robes took precedence. They had selected an old suit of Rodrigue’s that was several sizes too large for Felix which the tailors had managed to alter enough to fit him. There was a faint pattern in the material that no one could possibly see from a distance and the buttons shone like new when he pulled it on. It felt thick against his skin and Felix’s first instinct was to tear the thing off. Nevertheless, he stood still as a servant draped a dark cloak with speckled white fur over his shoulders. The man who stared back at him in the mirror looked older, more jaded and, if he had not known better, Felix might have thought he was an entirely different person.

“It is time,” Canas bowed deferentially as Felix turned and hurried out of the room. 

They walked through the halls of the castle in a silence that might have been reverent. Felix felt as though his limbs were moving without his control, but for once, he did not mind. The steward led the way into the reception hall and announced Felix’s entrance in a thin, reedy voice and after him, Byleth, the interim leader of the Church of Seiros followed by Dimitri, Prince of Unified Fódlan. Even for a funeral, certain proprieties needed to be followed. Felix waited with his arms crossed under the thick, black cloak and led the way out into the snowy graveyard at Dimitri’s signal. The pathways were cleared of snow for the crowd of onlookers to approach the hulking Fraldarius mausoleum as closely as they dared. Felix glanced over his shoulder once and caught the sight of bright orange hair near the front of the crowd. Annette’s head was bowed, and her hands clasped together in prayer, but even the sight of the top of her head was enough to steady his resolve. She was always there when he needed strength.

The coffin was sealed with an enchantment which Felix could not begin to comprehend, but it didn’t make much difference. With the assistance of four bearers and Dimitri, Felix grasped one side of it and headed into the cold stone structure where all of the Fraldarius lords had been buried. Rodrigue’s resting place was a long way inside and it grew so cold that Felix was glad for the thick cloak around his shoulders. Together, they gently set the wooden coffin into larger outer coffin and heaved the heavy, stone lid into place above it. Felix stared at it for a long moment, trying to recall the way his father had looked in life and compare the memory to the stone statue that stood sightlessly above his final resting place.

“I thought I had no more tears to shed,” Dimitri whispered, laying his palm against the cold stone. 

“I thought so, too,” Felix agreed, feeling a wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

They stood together in the blackness of the mausoleum, surrounded by the sightless eyes of the dead and mourned for a father taken too soon from life. Felix thought he ought to feel resentment toward his father for leaving him like this, with an empty castle and a role in the world that he had never wanted, but curiously, those feelings seemed to have dissipated from his heart. He could not pinpoint exactly when that change had happened, but with the poison drained away, Felix could properly grieve for a man he had taken for granted in life and walk forward on the path that lay before him. 

“Shall we head back now, Felix?” Dimitri asked after a time. 

“I suppose we should,” Felix replied quietly. “Dimitri…thank you.”

The blond man glanced at him in surprise, his expression obscured somewhat by the darkness. 

“For what?”

“For being here for this. I know my father would be pleased,” Felix murmured. “And also, for being here with me.”

He was not so alone, after all. 

“You are a brother to me,” Dimitri replied earnestly in his deep voice. It was oddly soothing in the confines of the mausoleum, as if an ancient anger had finally been put to rest between them. “Of course I am here with you, as you have always been with me.”

“Let’s go then, boar,” Felix grinned, gesturing for him to lead the way back out of the tomb.

The reception hall, while not as large as the one in the palace in Fhirdiad, was sumptuously decorated with black drapes and hardy flowers of white and yellow. People milled around the room in small groups, talking in low voices and glancing sidelong at their neighbours as though wondering where they stood in the new order. Upon entering the room, Dimitri was immediately accosted by a small herd of nobles that Felix barely knew by name. They murmured vague condolences to Felix, but as their interest turned to the prince, Felix took the opportunity to slip away. He glanced around for a familiar face and was grateful to see Ingrid striding purposefully toward him with Sylvain trailing at her heels. Noticing at least five other people already moving toward him with sympathies on their tongues, Felix quickened his pace until he nearly collided with his old friends. It felt strange to realize he had not seen them in months when they had so recently seen each other every single day.

“You’re looking well,” Sylvain said with an appreciative nod at Felix’s clothes. “I know this must be rough on you.”

“It’s fine,” Felix muttered as Ingrid released him from a tight embrace. “It’ll be over soon and…well, I think this is what he would have wanted.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Fe,” Ingrid sniffed. He was sure she was remembering Glenn’s funeral and felt a stab of guilt for causing her pain. Sylvain slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently. “He deserves to rest at home.”

“There’s an awful lot of people here,” Sylvain said once Ingrid had regained control of her sadness. “I didn’t think you liked crowds.”

“I don’t,” Felix shrugged. He looked around once more, catching sight of several more familiar faces. Dimitri hadn’t managed to extricate himself from the plethora of people surrounding him, but that was merely his new reality. Soon, Felix knew, it would be his too. “Canas and my uncle helped finalize the guest list, and this is what they considered an ‘intimate’ gathering.”

Ingrid giggled at that. “Lord Rodrigue knew a lot of people and he was well-liked. I’m not surprised that there are so many people here.”

“I heard that your father is retiring from public life,” Felix said to Sylvain in an effort to change the subject. “Has he named you the next Margrave, then?”

“Not quite yet,” Sylvain replied with an easy, slightly bitter smile. “It’s true he is stepping back though. Defending the kingdom for so long took a lot out of him. As the only son he has left…it’s up to me to stand in his place during formal engagements.”

“You’re doing well,” Ingrid murmured. “You can change things now. Nothing needs to stay the way it has always been.”

“She’s right,” Felix agreed. He crossed his arms and looked Sylvain dead in the eyes. “We’ve all got to do things— _be_ things—that we didn’t want. Might as well make use of that power for something good.”

“You’re right,” Sylvain said at length. “Thanks, Felix. You’re both right, of course.”

“We shouldn’t keep you from mingling with the other guests,” Ingrid said. She took Sylvain’s arm in hers and nodded very slightly over Felix’s shoulder. “We’ll see you later. Best of luck, Fe!”

Felix opened his mouth to ask what Ingrid meant and snapped it closed without saying anything when he heard a woman’s voice behind him.

“May we have a moment of your time, Your Grace?”

He spun around, cloak swirling in a mass of black velvet, and came face to face with a woman he had never seen before. She had a mass of dark brown hair shot through with silver tied in a bun atop her head and sharp, blue eyes that were the very picture of her daughter’s. Felix would have recognized her even without Annette standing beside her simply because the resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny. She may have inherited her hair from Gilbert, but nearly all of Annette’s other features seemed to come from her mother. Felix gulped audibly, but the woman did not seem to notice.

“The honour would be mine,” Felix managed to say without stuttering. He bowed, more for a chance to regain some sense of composure than because propriety required it of him, and when he straightened, the lady was smiling.  


“Felix,” Annette broke in, her voice a soothing balm to his ears after months apart. “I’d like you to meet my mother, Isabelle.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Felix said, suddenly feeling like this was a test for which he had forgotten to study. “I…appreciate your coming today.”

“We are so very sorry for your loss,” Lady Dominic said sincerely. Gilbert nodded once from behind her, but he did not speak. “I did not know your father well, but I heard much about him in the past from my husband and, more recently, Annette. I will offer my prayers for his soul.”

“That would be most kind,” Felix said, his voice feeling steadier although he suddenly was not sure what more to say. Annette seemed to be avoiding his eyes and he could see her cheeks turning faintly pink. Her entire demeanour seemed anxious from the way she instinctively chewed her bottom lip or wrung her hands around the fabric of her black skirt. “I trust your journey was comfortable?”

“Quite,” the lady said, smiling widely. “Annette spoke of you at length, and although I regret the circumstances, I am _so_ pleased to have met you.”

Felix glanced at Annette and bit back a laugh. She looked mortified.

“All good things, I hope,” he said, trying to crack a smile and hoping it didn’t come out looking like a grimace. 

Lady Dominic merely smiled again, not deigning to answer. “I have heard of your great deeds in battle,” she went on. Annette’s face flushed a deeper hue of red as Lady Dominic continued. “Your father was truly blessed with two wonderfully strong and kind sons. Your mother too would have been proud of all you have done for our world.”

“You knew my mother?” Felix repeated in surprise. No one had ever spoken of her at length to him in the past, neither Ingrid nor Sylvain’s parents who had both known her well. He had been left only with speculation and old, dusty portraits with her likeness. He had a sudden urge to ask her what more she knew of his mother, to have something more to hold on to than the conjectures he had made from the few fragmented memories that he wasn’t sure were even real.

“Not well,” Lady Dominic affirmed gently. “I was fortunate enough to meet her on a few occasions in Fhirdiad. She was a very kind woman and an excellent artist.” She paused, considering his face for a long moment. “You look very like her.”

“I do?” Felix asked. He had heard all his life that he looked very much like Glenn and his father, but he had never been told he looked like his mother. It felt freeing, as though the burden of being a Fraldarius was somehow lightened. “I…thank you. I do not remember her well.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t. I’m sorry for bringing up such painful thoughts,” Lady Dominic murmured. “I shall keep you in my prayers that your family’s souls may all rest peacefully together. We should be going. Come, Annette. His Grace has other guests to greet.”

“Yes, Mother,” Annette murmured. She curtsied prettily and Felix bowed automatically. It felt odd to act so formal with her. “See you around, Felix.”

Much to his chagrin, the Dominics were gone before he had another opportunity to speak with them.

\---

Three days later, Felix once again stood in front of a mirror and stared at his reflection.

This time, he was in the Fraldarius suite in the palace rather than his own castle. He wore formal robes of navy blue stitched with silver thread in graceful, swirling patterns and a belt of intricate silver links. His hair was pulled back in a neat tail at the back of his head, too long now to be a proper warrior’s tail, but longer than either his father or Glenn had worn theirs. More than that, it was long enough for Annette to run her fingers through and Felix could not deny that he enjoyed the feeling of that, even though she had not done so in months. He shook his head to clear the thought away and focused instead on securing his sword to his belt. It was a purely ceremonial blade, hardly sharp enough to cut anything, but it gleamed in the light and Felix felt more like himself when he gripped the hilt. Even a blade like this was better than having no blade at all. 

The coronation was held in the grand cathedral in the heart of Fhirdiad, not far from the palace itself. The sky was bright and clear despite the cold wind that blew through the streets, but Felix hardly felt it under the layers of robes as he was led inside to his seat by one of the Seiros monks. He could hear whispers as he passed, saw women following him with their eyes and men sizing him up, gauging his worth as a warrior or a noble (or, perhaps, both) and undoubtably underestimating the former. He wondered which of them might prove less than trustworthy in the coming months and years, wondered how many he would need to hunt down before they slid a knife through Dimitri’s ribs. 

As he slid into the front pew beside Sylvain, Felix glanced around once more. He saw Annette and her family seated beside Mercedes and Ashe two rows behind his own seat and nodded politely at them. Gilbert’s face remained as stoic as ever, his hands clasped piously in his lap while his wife smiled back with genuine warmth. For her part, Annette brushed a curl out of her face and smiled softly, as if she were afraid of anyone else noticing her affection. Her blue eyes were fixed on him like he was the only other person in the room and with the way his heart pounded in his ears, Felix almost believed it. 

When their old professor, the interim Archbishop, stepped on to the altar in robes of gold and with a scepter in her hand, a royal crier announced the long-awaited arrival of the prince in a clear voice that reverberated throughout the room. Felix stood and watched Dimitri walk slowly down the centre aisle, straight-backed and proud, his one-eyed gaze fixed on Byleth. He ignored the hundreds of people staring at him, judging his worth even now as he knelt before her in silent supplication. She placed a hand on his head, her smile tender and private before she finally spoke.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” she began, as clearly as though she were commanding them all on the battlefield. “You come before the Goddess seeking a crown with which to govern the peoples of the newly unified Fódlan. Do you come before the Goddess of your own free will?”

“I do,” Dimitri said clearly, his deep voice carrying through the room. He wore a flowing cape emblazoned with the crest of House Blaiddyd and his hair was pulled back so that only a few thin strands hung by his face.

“You understand that this duty is sacred to the Goddess,” Byleth went on, her hand still resting on his head. “You understand that by accepting this crown, you are responsible for the wellbeing of the people of Fódlan and upholding justice throughout these lands.”

“I do,” he replied again. He remained on his knees, head bowed with his right hand steady over his heart. Felix was only a babe when King Lambert ascended to the throne of Faerghus, so he had never seen a coronation himself, but all noble children grew up learning about the ceremony and most could recite the words by heart. 

“Is Your Highness willing to take the Oath of the Goddess and thereby rise to the highest office the mortal world has to offer?” Byleth asked formally.

“Yes,” Dimitri replied, his voice never wavering. “I am willing.”

“Do you swear to rule the peoples of Fódlan with justice and mercy in all things?” Byleth intoned, an edge of command creeping into her voice. 

“I do so swear.”

“Do you swear to uphold the laws of mortals and the laws of heaven in all your words and deeds, and to recognize all peoples, regardless of status or Crest, as equals in the eyes of these laws?” Byleth went on. 

“I do so swear.”

“Then so shall you be anointed as the Holy King of Unified Fódlan,” Byleth said, handing the scepter to one of the attending monks and dipping the tips of her fingers in oil. She traced the crest of Church of Seiros onto Dimitri’s forehead, all the while murmuring a prayer that Felix could not hear. The cathedral was nearly silent throughout the oath, each guest watching with bated breath for the moment he would rise and turn to face them all. Felix was aware that he was witnessing a monumental moment whose effects would ripple long into the future. In fact, much of his life had occurred during such turbulent times that he had not only borne witness to history in the making but had been a part of it all. It was a sobering thought that made the weight of his own cloak feel heavy upon his shoulders.

When she withdrew her hand from Dimitri’s forehead, Byleth turned to another of her attending monks and took the crown from the tasselled pillow he held. It was a symbol of Faerghan royalty since the time of Loog, made of gold and inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. It looked immensely heavy, but Felix knew there was a simpler circlet most monarchs opted to wear for everyday use. Byleth held it up at high as she could for a long moment so that the crowd could see it clearly before she set it atop Dimitri’s head with gentle grace.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, I bid you rise as the Holy King of Unified Fódlan,” Byleth intoned loudly, stepping back and raising her hands as she spoke. “Turn now and greet your people.”

Dimitri did as she asked, turning with one decisive motion and gazing out across the crowd. There was silence for the span of a heartbeat before a smattering of applause broke out and grew thunderous. 

“My friends,” the new king said when the noise subsided. “We have entered a glorious new era. I cannot say what the future will hold for us, but I vow to serve you to the utmost of my abilities. Together, we will build a world where all may live in peace.”

There would be time for more speeches later, Felix knew, at the banquet which would follow the coronation. Still, Dimitri’s few words echoed through the room and people nodded approvingly. Down the row from where he sat, Felix could see Ingrid flicking a tear from the corner of her eye and Sylvain’s eyes shining with pride. This was the culmination of what they had fought tooth and nail for since the day Edelgard launched her attack on Garreg Mach and seeing Dimitri standing in robes of royal blue with a crown atop his head sparked a surge of pride in Felix’s own chest. The sacrifices and the deaths that occurred along the path to victory were, at least, not in vain. 

Following the anointing, Dimitri was seated on a narrow, wooden chair with royal blue cushions and silver tassels as the nobles of Unified Fódlan approached to swear fealty to the crown. It was not an exhaustive list, of course; there were a number of nobles of mainly Adrestian descent who flatly refused to attend the coronation and were subsequently placed under house arrest at best or jailed beneath the palace in Enbarr at worst. It was the first indication that true peace was still a far-flung dream, but even Felix did not have the heart to say any such thing that day. As befit his rank, Felix was the first to approach the makeshift throne and kneel before Dimitri to offer his oath of fealty.

“In sight of the holy Goddess, I, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, swear to be true to you, my king and liege, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd in all my words and deeds,” Felix vowed, his voice clear and steady under the weight of the words. “I vow to serve this holy realm through to my dying breath without deception, to defend it against all peoples who wish to harm the peace, and to uphold the laws of heaven and the laws of mortals. With the Goddess and all these gathered here today as my witness, accept these words as my oath of fealty.”

“In sight of the holy Goddess, I, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, do so accept your oath of fealty,” Dimitri replied with equal solemnity. “Rise, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Duke of Fraldarius, Shield of Holy Faerghus and Defender of the realm of Unified Fódlan.”

Felix had never sought the responsibility of leading House Fraldarius, yet when he rose at Dimitri’s command and looked into his friend’s face, the weight of it all seemed to lighten. The look lasted only for a heartbeat before he descended back down the altar and took his seat once more, watching as his friends approached one by one to swear their own oaths. He watched each of them kneel before Dimitri and watched each of them rise bearing the weight of more than war and death. He watched as all of the other nobles who had gathered from across the realm approach Dimitri with their honeyed words, trying to gauge the sincerity of each of them and pondering how many would break their oath before the year was done. He was the Shield of Holy Faerghus and it was his duty to punish oathbreakers and prevent harm to the people he loved.

Many hours passed before the ceremony concluded and Dimitri led the procession out of the cathedral, his back straight and head held high, the crown gleaming in the evening light. A series of royal carriages ferried them back to the palace where the largest reception hall was set with long tables and piled with hot food. Felix was seated at Dimitri’s right hand and Sylvain at his left in a way that was faintly reminiscent of the banquet after they had liberated Fhirdiad. The mood was much more festive than that time, however, now that the war was over and there was once again a king in the palace. Felix rarely allowed himself to relax, and although he dreaded the number of people who would undoubtably wish to speak with him, this night was something of an exception. 

As was expected of him after the banquet, Felix slowly wove his way through the crowd of guests with a sparkling glass of wine in one hand and tried to sound pleasant whenever someone approached him, though his success seemed mixed. On the one hand, foreign dignitaries were eager to speak with him about his experiences in the war and the legacy of House Fraldarius while they assessed his worth to move among the upper echelons of the nobility. Half of them unsubtly mentioned unwedded daughters while the others pried for information about Dimitri. Felix was unused to navigating these shoals and try as he might to be equal parts polite and circumspect in the way he responded, many of them took their leave not long into the conversation. 

_It’s not like I want to talk to any of them anyway,_ he thought sourly some hours later, dodging between a handful of knights and a servant bearing a tray of sweet fruit. Even a few minutes away from chattering guests would be a relief until he could reasonably retire back to his rooms for the remainder of the evening. 

Stopping near an open window looking out onto one of the many gardens surrounding the palace, Felix glanced around quickly to see if anyone had followed him. Thankfully, the three minor nobles from Leicester who had been pressing Felix for his opinion on the stability of Faerghan control in southern Adrestia—a topic which he very much did _not_ want to discuss with just anyone—had elected not to pursue his retreating back. They were probably accosting Sylvain or Dimitri by now, both of whom had been conversing nearby when Felix made his escape. It was the first moment he had had to himself since the banquet began and although he had resigned himself to this fate, it did not make it easier to bear. He scanned the room once more, hoping to see anyone else he knew, but the sea of people made it impossible.

“Ah, if it isn’t the young Duke Fraldarius,” a woman’s voice said from beside him, jarring Felix out of his reverie. “It is so nice to speak with you again, and on happier terms!”

“Likewise,” Felix said quickly, turning and offering a very slight bow to Lady Dominic. When he righted himself, he was pleased to see that Gilbert was nowhere in sight. More unfortunate was that neither was Annette. “How do you do this evening? Did you enjoy the coronation?”

“Oh, very much so!” Lady Dominic replied cheerfully. She held a glass of wine in one hand and smiled at him so sweetly that Felix could swear that he had seen Annette smile in the exact same way countless times before. “It’s been such a long time since King Lambert’s coronation. I can still remember the way he looked when he took the oath. So young, yet with the grace of a man ready to bear the burden of kingship. I saw that today in His Majesty too.”

“As did I,” Felix agreed, raising his glass to his lips. “There is much to be done, however, before his throne is secure.”

“A throne is never truly secure,” Lady Dominic said, though she did not sound very concerned by the gravity of the conversation. “However, with your own appointment as Shield of Faerghus, I don’t doubt that it will be as safe as it can be. You kept my dear Annette safe after all, and I _know_ how difficult that must have been.”

Felix thought back to the months they spent together on the road toward Enbarr and the numerous times she was surrounded by soldiers on all sides. He could still recall the cold fear that lanced through his heart as he turned to save her time and time again, and how she never faltered even when everything seemed hopeless. Despite her own inner conflict about fighting, Annette had saved him at Ailell and again in Fort Merceus even at the cost of her own safety. It hadn’t mattered how often he told her to stay back, begged her to be careful, or how close he had remained by her side—Annette possessed the soul of a warrior and the heart of an angel. She followed her instinct in battle, and although it _had_ exacerbated a lot of dangerous encounters, Felix had never thought twice about running to her aid. It was as natural to him as breathing.

“War is dangerous by nature, and Annette trusted me with her life. I would never break that trust.” Felix said at last. “She saved me often enough too.”

“I am glad to hear it. Annette was so insistent on travelling back to Garreg Mach and I admit, I did have misgivings about it. I was afraid of losing her like I lost my husband,” Lady Dominic said lightly. Felix saw her fingers tighten around the stem of her wine glass until her knuckles turned white. “I cannot find the words with which to properly express my gratitude that you were by her side. I’m so thankful that she was not alone.”

 _I love her,_ Felix thought, sipping his wine and glancing over the woman’s shoulder. He could see Annette weaving her way toward them through the crowd of people. Her dress was green silk with gold lace and her hair spilled over her shoulders in loose curls. She seemed to glow in the candlelight and Felix could see people following her with their eyes as she passed. 

“I couldn’t leave her alone,” Felix murmured, almost too low for her mother to hear. Almost. 

Lady Dominic stared at him with calm, brown eyes, a slight smile curving her lips. He wondered if she could see something more in his face or hear the depth beneath his words. If she were anything like her daughter, Felix thought she probably could. 

“Mother!” Annette said breathlessly when she finally reached them. She darted a glance at Felix as she spoke. “I’ve been looking for you. Lady Pherae wanted to speak to you about the latest translation of Loog’s first year in office.” She paused, eyebrows creasing and added, “How _did_ you slip away so quietly?”

“A questionable translation at best, as I’m sure she knows,” Lady Dominic laughed, her eyes sparking mischievously. “I suppose I ought to indulge her, then.” She turned and patted Felix’s arm affectionately. “So nice to see you again, Your Grace.”

Once she was out of earshot, Annette let out a long breath of pent-up nerves and her shoulders slumped forward as though all her energy had been sucked out. Wordlessly, Felix passed her a tiny éclair from the table behind him. She accepted it gratefully, the tips of her fingers brushing across his own and Felix felt a slight ripple of electricity shoot through his body. It felt so normal to stand beside Annette while she had a sweet treat in hand, waiting for her to finish so he could finally pull her close once more. He thought of the ring hidden in the cherry wood box back in his room and smiled.

“I hope she wasn’t bothering you,” Annette said at last, licking the last remnants of frosting her from her fingers. “One moment she was with me and the next, she had vanished.”

“She wasn’t,” Felix replied honestly. “Your mother is very kind.”

“I think she’s excited to be back in the capital,” Annette went on fondly. “She’s lived on the barony for years, and only rarely visited before Cornelia came into power. It’s been a long time since she has been able to spend time with her old friends.”

“What better time than during a celebration such as this?” Felix agreed, waving his arm around in a sweeping gesture. “I haven’t seen your father anywhere tonight. Did he attend the feast?”

“Oh, he’s here somewhere,” Annette shrugged. “Really Felix, do you truly think his loyalty—or his guilt—would allow him to miss such an important event in our country’s history?”

“You make a good point. I’m sure he meant his oath to Dimitri more than most of the other nobles who knelt before him.” Felix gulped down the last of his wine and set the glass aside. “Are you staying in Fhirdiad long?”

“A few weeks, mayhap,” she said with a grin. “My mother needs a change of scenery, and frankly, I’d like to spend some time in the city too. Shall I come visit you?”

“Certainly,” Felix grinned back. “I’m sick of just having my steward for company. It would be nice to have you around.”

“I’ll try not to blow up your library,” she teased. 

“If you do, you can help me build a new one,” Felix replied with a smirk. He held out his hand and she laced her fingers through his. 

“It’s a deal!” she giggled, wrapping her hand behind his shoulder and smiling up into his eyes. She was in her element here, away from the battlefield and the dead, forgetting the guilt and the blood on her hands, allowing herself to revel in the pageantry and the celebration of the happiest time any of them had experienced in years. Seeing Annette enjoying life filled Felix with the kind of joy he could only remember in his faded childhood memories, from a time before Glenn had come home bloody and cold and utterly dead, from before Ingrid had sobbed into his chest or his father had tried to carry on like nothing was wrong. 

“Have you thought much about what you want to do now that the war is over?” Felix asked quietly as they danced. “You seemed unsure the last time we talked.”

Annette bit her lip and nodded slowly, as if she were considering her words carefully. 

“Yes,” she said, her voice low and steady. Felix bent his head down to hear her better. “My parents are in no condition to run the barony and my uncle is childless. I will follow in his stead.”

“You’re sure that that’s what you want?” Felix asked shrewdly. He knew it was a pointless question, perhaps even heartless; he had told Sylvain only three days prior that they all had to do things that they did not want, and Annette was no exception. 

“It’s not about me,” Annette told him. “We’re only a small territory, but the people need a leader. My uncle will continue for now, but one day he will be too old for running the barony. Knowing all this, how can I forsake my duty? Besides,” she added, her eyes shining with hope. “I realized that my dreams don’t have to be mutually exclusive. I can still do the other things that give me happiness, even if it isn’t as often as I’d like.”

“You always did have a gift for seeing the bright side.”

“Maybe you would too if you’d just try,” she said with mock seriousness.

“I’m not frowning!” Felix protested, tightening his grip around her waist. 

“Well, not right now,” Annette grinned. “But you will as soon as my back is turned! I know you, Felix, and you’re _always_ frowning about something.”

 _That’s because I want to see your face, not your back,_ Felix thought wryly. He felt as though they were inhabiting their own private corner of the world despite the prying eyes and whispers that skirted at the edges of his perception. If Annette noticed these things, she said nothing at all. They had walked through hell and emerged alive, though not unscathed, on the other side; a few nosey stares were nothing in the face of that.

As with all good things, the evening passed too quickly, and Felix could not deny that all he really wanted was to have a quiet moment with Annette to himself. With their new places in the world, it was selfish to consider stealing her away into the snowy gardens and, more than that, it would undoubtably be the cause of more than mere whispers. Even when their dance ended and Annette was swept away into the arms of another young man, her eyes met his from across the room again and again. He knew where she was without needing to see her, as though he had somehow developed a sixth sense tied entirely to her being. Nor was it only Annette’s eyes on him that night. More than once, he turned only to see Lady Dominic eyeing him, her expression carefully blank and her gaze sparkling with something that he could not quite name. 

From time to time, he thought back to ring safely tucked away back in his room in Castle Fraldarius and smiled his own secret smile. 

\---

_Dear Felix,_

_I am so thrilled that you will be visiting in Great Tree Moon! I know that you have been busy dealing with some minor disturbances in northern Leicester, so I am sure you will appreciate the lax pace of the country in springtime after all that. You must allow me to show you the gardens around the manor. I have been working on them diligently with my mother when I have not been sorting out petty grievances from the villages in our territory, and I am quite proud of the result. They are not as exotic as those back in Garreg Mach nor as lavish as the ones at the palace in Fhirdiad, but they are no less beautiful._

_I regret that this is not a longer letter. I shall look forward to your arrival next month and, in the meantime, remind you to take care of yourself._

_Love,_

_Annette_

\---

Felix folded the letter carefully along the creases and tucked it once more into his pocket. He had read it countless times over the last month, studying the neat curve of Annette’s writing and trying to imagine how she might have looked when she sealed it. Throughout the long, dreadfully cold winter months, Felix had nurtured the memory of her smile and her voice, steeling his nerves to ask her a question which he had never thought he would ask anyone. The more he thought about it, the more his stomach twisted into a complex knot of irrational fear and icy uncertainty, but he was too close to his destination to back out now. The Dominic manor had been growing ever larger on the horizon with each passing hour, and now that they were approaching the delicate wrought-iron gate, Felix felt his nerves flare once again, warning him that he was on the verge of baring his soul and risking the pain of rejection once and for all.

 _She won’t say no,_ he told himself firmly, his grip on the reins betraying his insecurity. He forced himself to remember the way she had kissed him so many times before, the nights they spent together in Enbarr, and all the times she had flashed him a private, gentle smile that set his heart pounding in his chest. _Surely she will say yes._

He was _mostly_ certain, but seeing Annette waiting on the wide porch in a soft blue dress and a white linen shawl about her shoulders made his heart thud harder against his chest. 

“Felix!” she cried, hiking her skirts enough to hurry down the steps and throw her arms around him as he dismounted. “Welcome! Goodness, it’s so late, I thought you might not arrive until tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his face burn and not daring to look at anyone else. He had only ridden with two Fraldarius soldiers and a pack horse for his belongings—Canas had insisted it was improper for him to ride alone, especially when he was ostensibly travelling westward on the king’s business—but Felix had no desire for them to witness what would otherwise be a more emotional reunion. “We met a few thugs on the way and stopped to dispatch them.”

“Is that so?” Annette replied, stepping back from him with a frown. “I thought we had taken care of the bandits in this area. I’ll let my uncle know to send out another patrol tomorrow. Never mind that though,” she added, taking his hand and pulling him up the steps with surprising force. “Follow me.”

He did as she commanded and followed Annette through the halls of the manor, unable to truly focus on the décor while she held his hand. She chattered as they walked, pausing to point out certain rooms and various paintings hanging on the walls, and although Felix was sure he provided appropriate responses, he could remember little of what he actually said. He tried not to think about the ring bouncing silently in the confines of his pocket, nor the weight of it against his thigh, both of which became more difficult the longer he spent in Annette’s presence. He had been waiting impatiently for this day ever since he had stood on the hill above Enbarr and now that it was here, Felix could not control the butterflies that seemed to swirl in his stomach. 

Annette had arranged for a small, scrumptious meal with her mother in a quaint parlor decorated with fresh flowers arranged in antique vases. Felix helped himself to roasted duck, beans in a truly delectable lemon sauce, and a variety of other fresh vegetables that reminded him in no small part of the meals they had shared back at Garreg Mach. He wondered if Annette had planned that this way, perhaps to make him feel at ease or because she still missed the days spent sitting together with the others sharing a meal in the dining hall. Whatever the reason, Felix felt his muscles relaxing just enough to properly participate in the conversation. 

When Lady Dominic finally rose and bid them good night, Annette waited until the door clicked shut behind her before speaking again.

“I am so glad you finally had some time to visit,” she said, her smile soft and almost shy. “Even if it is because Dimitri has sent you out on business. He keeps you busy!”

“Yeah…” Felix said, hoping his voice did not give away the lie. He _was_ often busy with Dimitri’s requests, that much was true. “You did say I should come in the spring, so it just…worked out.”

“It really is the best time of year,” Annette agreed happily. “The nearby villages usually hold a festival to celebrate the end of winter. I used to go when I was a child, but now that I am assisting my uncle, I don’t have time for such frivolities. So, I decided to at least work in the gardens here when I can.”

Felix turned his gaze toward the window, but he was too far away to see much through the glass. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to show me the gardens?” he asked slowly, slipping his hand into his pocket to make sure that the ring was still there. 

“I do,” Annette said, reaching for the teapot. “They’re lovely in the morning sunlight—”

“Why don’t we go now?” Felix interrupted, his voice a bit too fast not to sound suspicious. 

Annette paused with her hand around the handle of the teapot. She stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes wide with surprise and a rather confused expression marring her delicate features. 

“Now?” she repeated quizzically, raising her eyebrows as though to indicate she thought he was mad. “Are you sure? Felix, it’s so dark out already, you won’t be able to see anything. Tomorrow morning would be much better.”

“It’s no darker than after we liberated Fhirdiad,” he said reasonably. “The sky is perfectly clear too.”

“Well…I suppose we can, if you really want to,” Annette said somewhat doubtfully. She set down the teapot and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders once more. “But you had better still come and see them in the daytime tomorrow. They’re really lovely in the sunlight.”

“I promise,” Felix agreed solemnly as he tugged his own cloak on and followed her out of the room.

He was relieved to see that he was correct in saying there was enough light to see decently well enough in the darkness. The Dominic gardens were much smaller than either the ones back in the palace or the ones at Castle Fraldarius (which, admittedly, Felix had not paid very much attention to since he had taken up residence there again), but even at nighttime, he could see the love and care Annette had put into cultivating them. The hedges were perfectly pruned, and she eagerly pointed out the places where she planted certain flowers and fresh herbs. Many of them were merely small, leafy stems poking through the soil and only a few had blooms already, but the pride in her voice when she spoke of them made Felix smile and clutch the ring in his pocket even more tightly.

“We planted special lilies from Brigid here,” Annette said excitedly. She pointed at a row of thin green stems that did not appear to even have any buds on them yet. “They won’t be in season for another month or two at least, but they seem to be taking well to cooler climate. You will have to visit again in the summer to see those, if you can convince Dimitri to let you off the hook for a week or two.”

“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Felix said. The ring felt like it was burning against his clammy palm. “Look, Annette…I wanted to talk to you.”

She smiled and straightened the shawl to ward off the chill in the air. “You can talk to me about anything. Are you still worried about your future?”

“Something like that,” Felix muttered. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “I’ve been thinking that I’m really not cut out for this kind of life. I’m not good at diplomacy or talking to people. All I’ve ever known is my sword and I’ve relied on it to cut my way through life.”

Annette stared at him with wide eyes, but she said nothing, so he plunged on.

“Now, it’s only petty grievances to resolve and no more wars to fight. I’m not used to peace, to sleeping at night and pretending that there is no evil left to contest or to using a quill when I would prefer to use my sword. If it weren’t for your constant encouragement all these long months, I swear I would have given everything up by now and left Fódlan entirely.”

“Felix…” Annette murmured with a sharp intake of breath. He wondered if he was making her cry. He hadn’t meant to do that, but he wasn’t a kind man by nature, and he hurt her even when he tried not to. 

“What I’m trying to say,” Felix hurried on, trying desperately to make her understand. Now that the words were flowing, he wasn’t sure how to stop. He wanted to make sure she knew how much he loved her. “Is that I need you in my life. I can’t do this alone, Annette. It’s a bloody miracle I survived five years without you. I can’t do it again.”

“What are you saying, Felix?” Annette whispered, pressing the tips of her fingers against her mouth. 

“You know that I love you, Annette,” Felix said clearly despite how his heart was thudding in his chest. He reached to grasp her hand and pressed her fingers closed around the ring. “I want you to be my wife, if you’ll have me.”

For a long moment, his words were met with a deafening silence. Annette’s mouth made a small ‘O’ as she opened her fingers and stared down at the ring glinting in her palm. Felix bit his lip, watching her closely and waiting to hear her speak. He had planned this for months, spent weeks debating how he ought to broach the topic, practiced what he thought he should say and what he thought she would want to hear, and it was all for naught. Felix couldn’t remember anything he’d intended to say. He had never thought he would _want_ to tie his life with anyone else’s in matrimony and had always balked at his father’s attempts to arrange it, and so he had never imagined that he would be standing here in the moonlight hoping that Annette would agree to be his wife.

“Yes, Felix,” she whispered, her voice scarcely loud enough to be heard. “Yes, I will be your wife.”

Felix felt like all the air had been squeezed out of his lungs. He watched Annette slide the ring onto her finger and then she held out her hand for him to see. It sparkled in the moonlight and somehow looked far lovelier on her than he could ever have imagined. 

“You don’t have to bear these burdens alone,” Annette said quietly, stepping closer and cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes were brilliantly blue, reflecting the starlight as though she was made of light herself. To Felix, she _was_ his light, the bright sun that led him through the darkness of despair and loss that had marred his life since childhood. “I will always be with you.”

He could not say what the future held for them, whether there would be an abundance of joy or sorrow, but Felix found that when he kissed Annette, the future did not seem to matter very much at all. He tasted love on her lips and felt her fingers stroke his face gently, as though he were something so precious that he might break if she held him too tightly. In the circle of her arms, Felix knew that he was safe, that she would never betray his trust and that he could strive to be the man he had always wanted to be. There was no need to fear a future when he had the woman he loved by his side, the one person who knew his flaws and loved him nonetheless for them. 

“I love you, Felix,” Annette murmured into his ear, her cheek brushing against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as though she was afraid to let go. “I have always loved you.”

“I know,” Felix whispered back. He tilted her face up so that he could see her eyes. “I will always love you, Annette.”

She kissed him again, soft and full of love, and Felix knew that he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels bittersweet posting this chapter knowing there is only an epilogue left. I hope you have all enjoyed this journey as much as I have. I'm not going to leave a note on the last chapter, so I just wanted to make some final remarks here.
> 
> I must extend my sincerest gratitude to TwilightAF who has been with me since the beginning to read every chapter and give me amazing feedback and support the entire way. I could not have finished this without you! 
> 
> Thank you also to Panda who has been instrumental in bouncing ideas when I was stuck and with whom I could gush about my OTP all the time. You're awesome and I can't wait to read more of your work!
> 
> To all of you who have read and commented, I say: thank you. You are the reason I finished this fic at all, for without your love and encouragement, I don't know that I would have had the motivation to continue. I hope you will enjoy the epilogue and join me in future fics as well. 
> 
> Stay safe in this crazy world! 
> 
> Love, Kami


	39. Dawn

Standing in front of the long mirror in a gown fit for a queen, Annette realized that she felt perfectly at ease.

It was bizarre, of course, to lack nerves on her wedding day, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew it was silly to harbour any kind of fear. She knew Felix nearly as well as she knew herself, and she trusted him. Annette could not pinpoint the exact moment that she realized her love for him had grown into something deeper than mere admiration or girlish longing, nor the first time she had imagined what it might be like to marry him, if he would ever even want that. It was a dream she had dared not expect might actually happen in hopes of circumventing the sorrow she would feel if it never did. Annette was very used to curbing her hopes just enough that the pain would sting less if those hopes and dreams were never realized.

 _I’m getting married today,_ she thought, drinking in the sight of her gown and running her hands over the tulle skirt. Her bodice was threaded with pearls and diamonds that sparkled in the light when she moved. _I’m marrying Felix Fraldarius!_

“How do you feel, darling?” Lady Dominic asked. She gave one final yank on the ribbon and tucked the loose end into the dress where it would not be seen. “Too tight?”

Annette twisted to get a better look at the corset. The ribbons crisscrossed perfectly into a delicate ‘V’ down her back.

“It’s fine,” she said, smiling at her reflection. “I love it.”

“You look wonderful,” her mother murmured. She flicked a tear from the corner of her eye and went to fetch the veil. It was very long, trimmed with tiny jewels and delicate lace along the edge. Obediently, Annette, dipped her head down so Lady Dominic could carefully secure it in place. Strands of curls swooshed forward with her, brushing against her cheek and over her bare shoulders. “There, stand up straight now.”

When she did so, Annette drew in a long breath and exhaled it slowly. Beside her, Lady Dominic fussed with the veil so that it hung perfectly around her. Somehow, no matter how many times she had daydreamed about her wedding, Annette had never had a clear idea of how she would look in a wedding gown. She had spent hours staring at her mother’s wedding portrait as she grew up, had wondered if she might wear the same dress and had never been sure if it would suit her. When her father had vanished, all her daydreams of a far-off wedding to a faceless man had vanished too. Annette needed to grow up sooner than she might have otherwise, and such frivolous thoughts became a rarity for the few times she could relax with Mercedes between classes and exams at the Royal School of Sorcery and Garreg Mach.

“Thank you,” Annette murmured. She turned and wrapped her arms around her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s hard to believe this day is finally here.”

“I know,” she said, drawing back so as to not displace any of Annette’s curls or smudge her makeup. Lady Dominic looked her up and down and smiled a watery smile. “Soon you will be a married woman. I’ll miss you, Annie.”

“I’m not going away for good!” Annette protested. “Fraldarius is only a few days’ ride from home. We’ll see each other all the time.”

“I know. I’ll miss my little girl,” Lady Dominic explained. She fidgeted with her own lavender dress. “Annie…darling, I am so thankful that you are marrying a man who loves you. You deserve this happiness more than anyone.”

_I don’t want you to go through what I have._

Annette heard the unspoken words as though her mother had shouted them from the highest tower of the royal palace. They had lain between them since the day Gilbert broke her heart, and Annette had always known that pain would never truly disappear. It had coloured their relationship ever since, and for all the love and forgiveness in her own heart for her father, Annette, too, was relieved to know that Felix would never abandon her. She had known that about him since the day they met, and he had proven it time and time again when he put his life on the line to save hers. Perhaps it was selfish to think that way, but there was no denying that the strength of his character was part of what she loved about him.

“Thank you, Mother,” Annette whispered.

“We should go now,” Lady Dominic said at length, handing Annette her trailing bouquet of lilies and pale pink roses. She smiled and kissed Annette gently on the forehead. “It would not do to keep him waiting.”

Tightening her grip on her bouquet and feeling her heart begin to quicken in her chest with excitement, Annette followed her mother out of the room.

\---

They were to be married in the same cathedral where the king’s coronation had taken place.

Standing outside the doors, Annette could just see the multitude of guests standing in the long rows of pews awaiting her arrival. It was not quite as full as when Dimitri had been crowned, but there was certainly no shortage of attendees, including extended relatives from both families, well-connected nobles from across the land, and all of their close friends without whom Annette could not possibly have imagined her wedding day. Beside her, Gilbert fidgeted with the sleeves of his black jacket for the hundredth time until Annette turned her attention to him and smiled. His hands fell still at his sides as he looked her up and down. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen him without his knight’s garb, especially in the royal capital. It was a refreshing change to see him regularly dressing in the attire of a minor noble who spent more time wielding a quill than an axe.

“Are you nervous?” she asked quietly. The scent of fresh flowers wafted between them on the breeze and ruffled the veil that daintily obscured her face.

“Not nervous,” he murmured, the lines on his face somewhat less prominent in the bright autumn sunlight. “Merely sad to see you moving on with your life when I have already missed so much of it.”

“You have all the rest of your life to see me,” Annette reassured him. The words were startlingly similar to those she had spoken to her mother only an hour earlier. “I am not leaving Faerghus, after all.”

She could hear the first notes of her chosen processional song drifting out of the open door and the rumble of people rising to their feet to witness her grand entrance. Gilbert slide his arm through hers and smiled gently down at her. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

“I love you, Annie,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. The affection in his voice made her legs wobble slightly and she fought down a wave of emotion. She could count on one hand the amount of times her father had verbalized his love for her since the day he left them. “I pray that the Goddess will bless you with a long and happy life, for you deserve nothing less.”

“Father…” she murmured, squeezing her arm around his. “Thank you.”

At the signal of an attending monk, they stepped forward into the cathedral and slowly made their way down the aisle. It felt so different from when Annette had walked toward the altar to kneel before her king, and she felt her heart begin to pound faster in her chest. People smiled as she passed and mouthed their congratulations. Sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass windows high above and made the jewels on her gown glitter as she walked. Far at the end of the aisle, Annette saw Felix standing straight backed and proud in his ceremonial black suit. It was decorated with golden trim along the edges and all of the commendations Dimitri had bestowed upon him after he ascended to his throne.

They stopped a few feet away from the altar and Felix stepped forward to receive her. Annette could see the shadow of nervousness in his amber eyes, but he exchanged a quiet word with Gilbert and gripped his hand tightly for a moment before her father turned and took his own place beside his wife. Annette smiled as Felix turned to face her, a soft, gentle smile gracing his own lips as he lifted the blusher over her head and looped his elbow around hers. She hadn’t realized it was possible to be this happy, but she had never quite imagined how it would feel to be surrounded by all the people she loved most in the world. It was a future which she had not dared to dream so that she would not have to live with the pain of another loss.

Now, it was more than a future: it was her reality. They sat together before the altar of Seiros as Byleth proclaimed the holy passages which spoke of love, and they repeated the expected responses with perfect clarity. When it came time to speak their vows, Annette was proud that her voice did not tremble, and that the ring slid easily onto Felix’s calloused finger. Annette saw her father and the king weeping, one arm slung around each other’s shoulder while her mother stood smiling, her eyes shining with love. It was not until that moment that Annette understood that she was truly safe now, and that she had succeeded in making her family whole once more.

When all of the hymns had been sung and all of the offerings had been made to the Goddess, Felix twined his fingers through hers and led her slowly up the steps of the altar. They stood facing each other, hands clasped together as Byleth proclaimed a final blessing. Annette smiled, and felt her cheeks flush with joy. He smiled too, a genuine and tender smile so rare that Annette strove to memorize every detail of his face. For one blessed moment, she could have sworn they were in a world all of their own.

She almost didn’t hear Byleth present them as a married couple.

“In the name of the Goddess Sothis,” she said, stepping aside and gesturing at them through the stiffly embroidered sleeve of her robe. “I present to you the Duke and Duchess of Fraldarius.”

Felix grinned at her and pulled her close. His lips were warm and soft against hers. Annette was dimly aware of cheering and applause from the audience. She tightened her fingers around his and pulled away reluctantly from their kiss. She could taste his eagerness for more and she could see the longing in his eyes to hold her closer. Yet their time was not truly their own, not right now. The ceremony was complete, and they were wedded, and with that came more responsibility than ever. There was a reception in Castle Fraldarius to attend, guests to welcome and food to share. It would be unseemly to revel in each other on the altar.

That was what the wedding night was for, after all.

\---

In truth, the reception lasted so long that by the time the last of their guests had departed, Annette was too exhausted to do anything other than stand wearily in the centre of their bedroom as a small army of maids unlaced her gown and brushed out her hair. They helped remove her makeup and held open a silk robe for her to wear. She slipped on a pair of matching slippers and sank gratefully into a soft chair by the hearth. Her mind was spinning pleasantly from the wine she’d drunk. It felt immensely satisfying to be able to sit down without anyone coming up to her and requesting the next dance. After an entire day of preparing for her wedding and then the ceremony and celebrations, Annette had nearly no energy left.

She was almost asleep in the chair when the door to their adjoining bathroom opened and Felix stumbled into the room. He yawned and adjusted his navy night-robe as he fell into the chair opposite hers looking quite as harried as she did. For a time, they sat in silence, half-asleep and comfortable merely to sit quietly by the fire. It was a stark contrast to what Annette had imagined her wedding night being like. All the stories she had read as a young woman and heard from her extended relatives implied that the wedding night was the most exciting part of the day, that no man or woman could resist the desire to claim each other in their marriage bed. In truth, Annette could hardly imagine anyone having the energy to undress properly for such an undertaking, much less the strength to consummate the marriage after the endless dining and dancing during the reception.

“I could sleep for a week,” Felix mumbled as though she had spoken aloud. His eyes were closed and his head lolled against his shoulder.

“My feet are so sore,” Annette murmured through a wide yawn. “I’m never moving from this chair.”

“I’ll make sure Canas brings breakfast up here,” Felix agreed feelingly. “Or lunch. I’m not sure I’ll be hungry for breakfast anyway.”

“I’m still full after that delectable dessert,” Annette agreed. “Do you think Canas would bring me something to read too? I’m serious about not moving.”

“Probably,” he replied with a chuckle. He stood and stretched his arms high above his head. “He’s smitten with you. I should be careful, he might try to off me.”

“Don’t be silly!” Annette laughed.

“I’m never silly,” he said with such seriousness that she almost believed him. He walked over to the cedar chest at the foot of their immense bed and pulled out something wrapped in silver paper. He turned and handed it to her. “This is for you. A wedding gift from me.”

Annette sat straighter in her chair and turned the gift over in her hands. It was heavy and felt suspiciously like a book. “Maybe I won’t need Canas to bring me anything after all,” she said as she tore the paper apart. Felix sat across from her looking enormously pleased with himself. “Oh, Fe…you shouldn’t have!”

“Well I did.” He smirked. “Go on, open it.”

Annette was already leafing through the pages of the tome and humming along to the music inside. A full copy of the most famous operas of Faerghus complete with the musical scores and notes on everything from costuming to stage direction—it was a treasure that Annette had never considered might exist. The leather cover was hardly scuffed at all and the pages were nearly as crisp as if they had been freshly printed.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I do. I love it,” Annette said, setting the book aside gently on the table. “In fact, I have something for you as well. It isn’t wrapped though.”

“I don’t care about that,” he insisted immediately. “You didn’t need to get me anything, you know. You’re all I could ever want.”

She blushed. He was nothing if not honest.

“Still, I wanted to,” Annette said, rising unsteadily to her feet. Felix darted forward with more agility than she expected after all they had done in the last twenty-four hours and offered her his arm. “It is almost dawn. Let’s go to the balcony.”

“As you wish,” he said. Felix swept her up in his arms and Annette yelped in unexpected delight. She looped her arms around his neck and impulsively kissed his ear. He glanced sidelong at her and then set her into a wicker chair. He kissed her forehead, her nose, and then lingered on her lips until she pushed him away with a laugh.

“Sit,” she said with a gesture toward the other chair. The sky was already lightening with pink and yellow as the sun began to rise, bathing the earth in the warm, comforting light of dawn. It would be the perfect backdrop. “As I said, I have something for you as well. I wrote this to commemorate our wedding.”

Felix sat staring at her with rapt attention, the long tail of his hair hanging over his shoulder and his eyes shining with anticipation. He looked like this every time she prepared to sing for him. She should be used to it by now, but Annette still felt her cheeks flush and her breathing quicken with joy. He truly loved her music. She hadn’t expected that of anyone, and she would never have thought a man made hard by circumstance and war would have cared at all about her silly songs. She took a deep breath and began to sing.

Her voice was steady in the quiet morning and she felt renewed with vigor. She had rehearsed this a thousand times. She wanted it to be perfect. The sun cast warm rays across the balcony and Felix’s eyes shone in the morning light. He stared almost unblinkingly at her, watching every movement she made as if striving to remember ever minute detail of her performance. What had once felt embarrassing now felt flattering.

_The past is the past, dust and darkness,_

_We have travelled through despair to reach this place._

_Now the sun rises o’er the eastern hill,_

_Our tomorrow has arrived with the bright dawn._

_Perhaps our library will go boom,_

_Perhaps we will share steaks and cakes._

_So long as it is with you,_

_I am ready for tomorrow._

_Yesterday is already a faded memory,_

_There is no more reason to look back._

_Take my hand and sing with me,_

_This is our song for tomorrow!_

There was more to the song, but Felix interrupted her. He knelt on the cool stone in front of her and kissed her fiercely. He tasted faintly of wine, but Annette hardly noticed. She took his head between her hands and ran her thumbs along the planes of his face, drinking in the taste of him as though she was as parched as a desert. There would be time enough to sing it in full. Felix was her husband, after all, and she knew that he would insist she sing for him over and over again, and Annette was only too happy to oblige him. He never tired of her voice, but he also never tired of kissing her.

“I love you,” Felix said breathlessly after a long time. “Annette, my love, my wife.”

“I love you too, Felix,” Annette whispered. She kissed his forehead tenderly. “I have always loved you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I felt a bit burnt out once I started writing it, so I had to step back.
> 
> Since Monday will be my first wedding anniversary, I thought it would be an appropriate time to finish and post this epilogue.
> 
> See you in the next fic!
> 
> Love, Kami


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